Kaprice's Tears
by Krizsta
Summary: After a disaster turns the continent into desert, the gods are forced to turn to a human maiden for aid. And the fate of the world will then rest on her ability to change the past... *COMPLETED*
1. How It Started

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it ain't mine. End of story. 

Summary: Tortall and the rest of the continent has been turned disastrously into desert. The gods leave it up to one young woman to change the past, to bring the world back to its former glory. But what if the risks involved with that are too much for her to handle?

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1. How it started:

51 years after Lady Knight, the end of the Human Era, and The Devastation 

The gods were gathered in the coliseum. Everyone was there. Animal gods. Insect gods. Major gods. Minor gods. There had never been such a meeting like this before.

As a matter of fact, a casual viewer might have thought that this was some sort of gathering for a party…if everyone hadn't had such somber expressions on their faces.

The gods squinted toward the sky, watching as the moon slowly inched toward the sun.

Finally, the moon came to rest in front of the sun, and the world was left to thrive in the momentary darkness.

"We need to work quickly if we want to get this done." Mithros' voice boomed across the coliseum. He raised his arms in front of them, and in the palm of his hands he held a fist-sized silver ball.

Other human gods quickly followed suit, but instead of holding their balls of power steady in their hands, they gently boosted them up into the air. The silver balls floated over to Mithros, hovered over his own ball of power, and then melded in with his. And as each power ball melded in with Mithros' own, the ball in Mithros' hands got bigger in size.

When the human gods realized that the animal and insect gods were not moving to join, they all turned to glare.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" the Graveyard Hag demanded impatiently.

"We've already talked this through." The Great Mother Goddess said. "And we all agreed to give up some of our remaining power to help." she reminded the others serenely.

The other gods had been less willing than the human gods to agree. Humans were waning in their belief of the gods, but the animals and insects still remained faithful to their gods. 

"Fine. Here." The house fly said cantankerously. A small speck of silver flew over to Mithros' ball and melted into it. 

"Quickly." Mithros said in his gruff voice.

The remaining gods reluctantly gave up some of their god-power to Mithros' ball.

"And the child?"

The Goddess stepped up to Mithros, a small baby held in her arms. "Here." she said. She glanced up at the moon. "Quickly. The light will be back and we will become weak again. We must do this before that."

The baby had been found alone in the desert, the dead body of her mother beside her. The gods had declared her perfect for their purposes, and taken her in. For a month or so now, the Goddess had been taking care of her. 

Mithros glanced down longingly at the silver ball in his hands. By now it had grown to the size of an adult human's head. Then he sighed. _This must be done_, he reminded himself. _We will not have a chance like this one again._

He lifted the ball and brought it toward the sleeping baby cradled in the Goddess' arms. The moment the ball touched the baby's soft skin, it seemed to quiver. Then the ball slowly melted into the baby's body. He watched as the baby's skin glowed a most unearthly color, and then the ball of power was gone, completely inhaled by the baby's body.

The baby suddenly opened her eyes and glanced up at Mithros with her glittering emerald eyes. _I don't remember her having eyes like those when we first picked her up…_

Mithros blinked and stared at the Goddess. "And will she have black hair also?"

Amusement flashed across the Goddess' eyes, eyes of the same shockingly green that the baby had. She lifted a hand to study a lock of her own long black hair. "Perhaps."

Mithros shook his head. He should have known that she would do something like this.

The sunlight reappeared, chasing away the remains of the darkness that the moon's shadow had bought. The gods watched as the moon continued on its way across the sky, feeling the exhilaration that the brief darkness had brought slowly leak away from them. 

Mithros turned to look at the Goddess, who was rocking the baby back to sleep. The baby would have to be given back to a tribe, now that they were finished with the ordeal.

"Well, what now?" he said with a great sigh.

The Goddess shook her head and motioned for Mithros to be more quiet. "Now we wait." 

~*~*~*~

19/20 years later

"It's been three years."

"Do you think that he'll still be in love with her?"

"He should be over it by now. Anyway, who said it was love?" The first girl said to the second with a scornful laugh. "He only lusts after her, that's all."

"Lust doesn't last for three years, Mindy." The second girl disagreed.

"Yes, it does." Mindy said. "What about my brother? He's wanted to lay his hands on Kaprice for ages. And what about your own brother, Lonna?"

"Well, she is very pretty." Lonna admitted.

"Hmph. I guess if you like her type, she is."

"What are you two girls talking about?" Kaprice asked the girls as she came up behind them.

The two girls jumped, nearly dropping their jugs of water.

Kaprice delicately held onto her own, tilting it into the pond of the oasis to fill it with water.

"We were just discussing Dawne." Lonna said embarrassedly.

Dawne was the name of the spring festival. It was the most important and popular festival of the year that the desert tribes celebrated. 

"Oh? Is there a special young man you wanted to capture at Dawne?" Kaprice asked lightly.

"I want to capture Ryker of the Black Hawks." Mindy said in an overly loud voice. Several others of the Black Sands tribe who were nearby glanced up at the commotion.

Lonna flushed. "Mindy…"

"You won't mind, will you?" Mindy asked Kaprice pointedly.

Kaprice stood, jug full of water held firmly in her grip. "Mind? Why should I?" she asked the younger girl mildly.

"Well, it is rumored that you two are lovers." Mindy declared in a malevolent way. 

Kaprice just laughed amusedly. "I'm not that much of a fool."

Lonna started pulling Mindy away. "I'm sorry, Kaprice, but we can't stop to chat. We've got to prepare for tonight." Tonight was the opening night of Dawne.

"Indeed. Then you must be on your way." Kaprice waved a dismissive hand at them. "Oh, and Mindy. Good luck." she called out to them mockingly.

Kaprice chuckled underneath her breath when Mindy turned to give her a black stare. But before she could respond, Lonna pulled her away.

One of the onlookers murmured the word, "Freak" loudly enough for everyone to hear. 

Kaprice let her smile drop as soon as she had the hood of her desert robe over her head. She quickly stalked into her tent and pulled the flap shut behind her. After placing her jar of water down carefully in the corner, she plopped herself down onto her pallet

_Why can't they just leave me alone_? 

Kaprice hated how others of the tribe talked about her, thought of her, looked at her. She was officially known as "The Freak" in her tribe. Not to mention the others.

Dawne was a festival that lasted seven days, the longest of all festivals of the year. It would become officially at sundown that night, and continue on until sundown of the seventh day. 

Of all weeks, this was the week that Kaprice hated most. It hadn't always been this way. She had only started hating this week three years ago.

Dawne was the festival that celebrated renewal, life, love, and joy. It was the one week especially designed for different wandering tribes to gather together and celebrate. It was the celebration that allowed for young women to flirt with the young men and find a lover. It was the celebration that most often resulted in marriages at the end of the week. And one couldn't possible forget about the babies born nine months after the festival

Once young men and women turned sixteen, they were allowed to fully partake in the festival. Those who were younger were also allowed to celebrate and dance, but they were not allowed amongst the crowd of those looking for lovers. For husbands and wives. There were several other festivals each year where tribes met together, but those were also focused on things other than love and marriage.

Few girls found a suitable husband at their first festival. But most girls found husbands by the time they were seventeen. It was rare for a girl to be eighteen and still without a husband.

Kaprice was nineteen.

Both Mindy and Lonna had turned sixteen only a couple months ago. This would be their first festival. 

Mindy, with her pretty face, might just be able to find a young man who was willing to marry her at this festival. But would that young man be Ryker?

Ryker was one of the most eligible young men of all the Black tribes. He was the chieftain's son, next in line to rule the tribe of the Black Hawks. That itself made him irresistible to young women. For being the chieftain's wife was to live a life of ease and luxury. One couldn't be more better off than as the wife of the tribal chief.

Perhaps the girls were right in their thoughts of Ryker being over her. It had been three years, after all. Perhaps he was now finally willing to leave Kaprice alone and find some other girl to marry.

So why wasn't she comforted by the thought?

****

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A.N. - Well, there it is. I hope the wait for it wasn't too long. This fic will be updated every other day, unless otherwise noted. So if you want to read chapter two, come back the day after tomorrow.

And on a sidenote, the name Kaprice rhymes with the first word of the chocolate: REESE's peanut butter cups. Kaprice, Reese, Kaprice, Reese. Got it? Not Kaprice, rice, Kaprice, rice. 

And although the plot is sadly lacking from this chapter and the next, it will make an appearance soon. Really.

Hmm…what else did I want to say…

Oh, and more TP characters will be appearing in later chapters. So don't be alarmed if you don't recognize anybody in the next couple chapters. After all, where would a TP fanfic be without TP characters. 

Well, dear readers, I want to know what you think. Stay a little while longer and leave me a review…

~krizsta

P.S. - for those who asked about a sequel to my first fic, Bloody Thorns, we'll still have to see about that. But if I am suddenly clobbered with an idea for a good sequel, I'll make sure you know about it.


	2. An Unwanted Lover

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2. An Unwanted Lover

Kaprice let the soothing sounds of the drums and flutes wash over her. It was just moments till sundown and the beginning of the festivals. All four of the Black tribes (Sands, Hawk, Glare, and Star) had arrived and settled down near the oasis. 

Kaprice had settled down under a tree in the oasis with a blanket. The dancing and rejoicing didn't take place in the oasis, but the music was still audible. Everyone had gone over to the big fire that was being set up in between the four individual camps of the four tribes. That's where the dancing and celebration would take place. It was rather peaceful here at the oasis by herself. 

The sun disappeared over the horizon and Kaprice was able to hear everyone cheer. Then the music really started up. Kaprice was almost able to feel the ground beneath her shake from the beat of dancing feet and pounding drums. 

Dawne always started with a drawing of partners. Before the start of the festival, all possible female candidates were to scribble their names onto small slips of paper that would later be placed into a little cauldron. Then, after the sun had gone down, all eligible males took turns drawing out a name. And the first dance of the festival would then be danced with that partner. 

Kaprice had not submitted a slip of paper with her name. She hadn't done so since her first festival. 

Even over the music, Kaprice could hear men roaring with laughter and young women squealing in dismay. Not everyone got who they wanted, but as tradition dictated, they would dance with the person luck paired them with. The young couples would then be joined with already married wives and husbands, celebrating the successes of their own unions. 

Kaprice leaned back onto her blanket and stared up at the glittering night sky. _Lots of stars out there tonight_, she observed. The night was clear and calm, with very little clouds blocking the sky. 

Kaprice loved taking time out for herself and just staring up at the dark sky. The stars weren't judgmental; they didn't think of her as "The Freak." 

When had the tribe first started to dislike her? Kaprice didn't remember. Perhaps it was because she was an orphan. Family was everything to the tribes. They were your support, your consolation, your most trusted friends. The common punishment for betraying family was exile. Sometimes even execution. Without family, you had no one. 

Well, then. Kaprice had no one. No one but herself.

But that wasn't the only reason why the tribes disliked her. They disliked her because, well, she was just _strange_. 

Kaprice knew things. Strange things that not even the tribal shaman knew about. She knew when sandstorms were coming; her predictions were more accurate than the shaman's. She knew which oases were polluted with poison left by rival tribes even without examining the water. She knew when it was better to leave a hopelessly sick camel than try futilely to save it. To say it plainly, she just _spooked_ the others of her tribe. 

Some had even gone far enough to whisper the cursed word 'magic' behind her back. 

And the fact that she was pretty didn't help her situation either. Her beauty just dug her deeper into the hole.

The pounding music suddenly fell away, to be replaced to a softer set of percussion and flutes. The musicians were officially playing the first song of the festival. The perfect song for two young people to sway to. 

When Kaprice heard the sound of careful footsteps coming toward her, she hoped that they would just continue past her. 

But instead, they stopped right in front of her.

"You aren't by the center fire, Kaprice."

Kaprice gave an inward sigh and pulled herself to her feet. If she just continued to lay about on her blanket, Ryker might take that as an invitation.

"And you are wonderfully observant, Ryker. As always." She ran her hands down her desert robes, brushing off grains of sand. "You're not married yet, Ryker?" she asked with a dry tone. "The girls must be horribly disappointed."

"There's no rush for me to marry." Ryker said. "I'm still young."

Ryker was twenty years old, and as men went, just at the beginning of his prime.

"Most young men get married at the age of twenty. Perhaps you should follow suit." she suggested.

"I was never one to follow the crowd. You should know that, Kaprice." he said to her pointedly.

"Well, perhaps you should start now." she snapped.

Ryker just smiled. His smile reminded her of the other reason why Ryker was so irresistible to the young women: he was incredibly attractive. Ryker had light brown hair that glittered gold in the desert sun and bottomless hazel eyes that one could look into forever. And his smile had the ability to make any woman shiver with its unspoken promises. His lean, muscular body only added to the effect.

And it didn't help that Kaprice personally knew how it felt to be held in his arms. 

Kaprice folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. "What do you want." Her voice wasn't exactly friendly.

Ryker lifted his hand and in his hand was a small slip of white paper.

Kaprice already knew what was written inside. But she still voiced her protests. 

"I didn't submit my name to the drawing." 

"You didn't need to." Ryker said. 

The only time that she had done so was at her very first Dawne, at her very first spring festival three years ago. And Ryker had drawn her name.

Ryker proceeded to unfold the paper he held and revealed her scribbled name. 

Kaprice stared at the paper for a moment before returning her glare to Ryker. "Why do you still have that? After three years? Why don't you just get rid of it?" _Why don't you just leave me alone?_ she added to herself silently. He had brought the same slip of paper with her name from the first festival back to her at her second Dawne. And her third. And now at her fourth. 

Ryker gazed at her with his soft hazel eyes. "I can't." He gently folded the paper back in half and hid it away in one of his pockets.

"Why not?" she demanded in frustration.

He didn't answer.

"You're too damn stubborn." she finally said.

Ryker reached out a hand as if to touch her, but she immediately swatted it away.

"You know, you are quite beautiful when you are angry." He observed.

"You tell me that every year. And every year I tell you to leave me the hell alone." 

He looked at her with amusement. "Any other girl would be happy to be in your place with me--"

"And I'd _willingly_ give them my place." she retorted.

He stepped toward her, reaching for her again, and she took a step back. When she realized what she had done, she took a step forward, back toward him.

"Don't make me pull a knife on you." she threatened.

That made him smile again, and Kaprice had to clench her hands into fists to keep herself from responding to him. Damn him and his gorgeous smile. 

Several long moments passed, and he just continued to stare at her. 

Kaprice suddenly sighed, tired of her whole predicament. A predicament like this one had occurred at every Dawne festival after the first. She didn't want to go through it a third time. "Ryker. Please, just go away." 

Ryker lifted his hand to her cheek and she quickly grabbed his wrist. He could have fought her and won; he was stronger than she. But he didn't.

"Will you never forgive me?" he suddenly asked her, voice incredibly soft.

She blinked in surprise. He had never asked her that before. "I don't like to repeat my mistakes."

"But it wasn't because of me th--"

She held up a hand to cut him off. She knew that what he was just about to say was definitely something that he had said to her before. 

He moved to lower his hand back down to his side and she started to release him when, quicker than a snake, he grabbed her hand and brought it against his lips.

"Your skin smells like the rare desert flower that blooms only one day each year." 

She sighed. "Won't you ever stop trying to seduce me?" she asked as she took her hand back.

"Won't you ever forget about the misunderstanding and forgive me?" he asked back.

"No." 

He nodded. "And that's the same answer that I give you to your question."

He stepped back from her and leaned into a deep, formal bow. "I will see you later, Kaprice."

She sighed as she watched him walk away. She had been afraid of that.

~*~*~

****

A.N. - so there's the second chapter. How was it? We got to know a little more about Kaprice and a little more about Ryker as well.

Pen Mage: Kaprice's name is pronounced like the pants, but with the s sound at the end.

Uhm…for others who had questions: most questions people asked will be answered in later chapters, so I won't ruin the flow of the story by revealing the answers yet. But if you do have a question that is particularly bugging you, ask and I'll do my best to answer it. 

~krizsta

p.s.: for those of you who wanted to see Thorn and Evin again, how would you like it if they appeared in this fic (with minor, minor roles, however)? If this is what some of you would like, I may be able to work them into my fic somehow. 


	3. A Favor

Finally! An update! 

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3. A Favor   
  
The sound of giggling woke her up. With a silent groan, Kaprice straightened, wiping sand off her robes and rolling up her blanket. It was time to leave. The oasis was starting to fill with the noises of amorous young couples seeking a little privacy for the rest of the night.   


As she neared her tent, she was able to see a crowd of people who still remained by the center fire. Or actually, a group made up of one young man and many young women. That young man being Ryker, of course. And beside that group of people, there was a smaller cluster of envious, partner-less young men who glanced at Ryker jealously.   


Kaprice rolled her eyes and didn't stop walking, hoping to pass by the two groups without getting noticed.   


"Hey, Kaprice."   


Kaprice stopped walking mid-step and glanced over her shoulder. "Yes?"   


Several of the young women stepped back and away from her, obviously frightened by Kaprice's dangerous tone.   


"Don't you have a lover to sleep with tonight?" Mindy asked haughtily. She stood especially close to Ryker and was running her fingertips teasingly up and down his chest. Ryker's own face was inscrutable.   


Kaprice just laughed. "There's no one here that I want to sleep with," she said.   


"Are you sure?" Mindy asked her tauntingly. She leaned over to rub her cheek against Ryker's chest.   


A flash of emotion crossed Ryker's hazel eyes and Kaprice knew him well enough to recognize it for what it was: amusement.   


"You might want to watch out for this one, Ryker," Kaprice called out to him over her shoulder. "She's a snake."   


Ryker had a way of laughing that made you feel his laugh in the deep pit of your stomach. Kaprice knew that his laugh had the same effect on the other girls when they turned to glance at him adoringly after hearing him laugh.   


"I like snakes. They're feisty," he said to her.   


"I see," she said quietly. "No wonder we can never get along." She started to turn away.   


She was stopped by a firm hand on her elbow.   


"Kaprice, all you need to do is say the word and I would happily leave the other girls in the dust," Ryker said to her in a low voice so that no others could hear.   


Kaprice glanced over his shoulder at the other girls while at the same time started to pull his fingers off from around her arm. Then she turned back to Ryker. "If you don't quickly pick which one of the girls you will bed tonight, there will be a catfight. And I highly doubt that the other young men who are still partner-less will appreciate that. Good night, Ryker."   


She turned away from him, not wanting to see what expression he had on his face, and walked away.   


~~~~~~~~~~~~   


On the other side of the encampment where the Black Hawk tribe was camped, a man sat alone in his tent, waiting.   


A moment later, Bowdyn, chieftain of the tribe Black Sands, pulled back the flap of the tent and joined that man.   


"I hope you had a good reason to pull me away this night, Athair," Bowdyn grumbled with dislike. "I was in the middle of enjoying a long night with my wife."   


Athair glanced at the younger chieftain, wondering if he was about to make a mistake. Athair was a man of very little patience and very little tolerance of foolishness. Bowdyn, at the age of twenty-six, was the youngest chieftain of the Black tribes, and he tested Athair's tolerance at their every meeting.   


"I have a favor to ask of you, chief Bowdyn," Athair said very formally.   


Bowdyn's eyes glinted with curiosity. "A favor?" he drawled.   


"Yes."   


Bowdyn found himself intrigued. Favors were rarely exchanged between different tribes, for to ask for a favor was to accrue debt. Debt wasn't something that the tribes easily accepted. "What kind of favor?"   


Athair's eyes were cold as he spoke. "The …maiden who resides in your camp. The maiden with the raven hair and emerald eyes."   


Bowdyn raised an interested eyebrow. "Kaprice?" It amused him that Athair was referring to her as 'the maiden.' Everyone who was a member of the Black tribes knew who Kaprice was. Everyone. "What do you want with her?"   


"It is what I do not want with her. I want you to get rid of her."   


Bowdyn pretended to think about that. Then he glanced up. "Why?"   


Of course, Athair already knew that Bowdyn knew the answer to that. And he refused to condescend to answer it.   


Bowdyn finally ended the silence with a quiet chuckle. "Having difficulties controlling your son, Athair?"   


Athair stiffened. "My son is not your concern," he said coldly. "And who are you to talk about control, when amongst 

your tribe a witch wanders, doing and saying what she pleases."   


Bowdyn hunched back. "Kaprice has her uses."   


"Yes, I've heard. It is known that her predictions are more accurate than any shaman's. Perhaps you and your tribe have become too dependent on her, and now you are reluctant to grant my favor because you fear it will weaken your rule."   


Athair's words fell upon Bowdyn, sharper than a knife's blade.   


"I do not depend on that witch to rule my clan," Bowdyn growled.   


Athair smiled smugly. "You dislike her as much as I. Or perhaps, you just dislike her because she has refused you her bed?"   


Athair had just touched another sore spot, and Bowdyn struggled to reign in his temper. Besides, it had not just been his advances alone that she had scorned. She scorned all of the men. The only time she had not scorned someone's advances had been three long years ago.   


"What will I gain from granting your favor?" he finally said.   


"I will back you during any dispute with any of the Maroon tribes." The Maroon tribes were the Black tribes' most bitter rivals. Yearly, bloody 'disputes' broke out between the Maroon tribes and the Black tribes, always resulting in heavy casualties.   


"Is that all?" Bowdyn asked scornfully.   


"And," Athair added, his eyes cold, "I will encourage my son to take the wife of your choosing from among the young women of the Black Sands tribe."   


"Encourage?" Bowdyn asked pointedly.   


"Force," Athair said through clenched teeth.   


Bowdyn thought about chief Athair's offer. If Athair's son married a wife of Bowdyn's choosing, Bowdyn would have a great deal of influence on the tribe of the Black Hawks. As long as he chose a girl whom Bowdyn could easily manipulate. But…   


"If you cannot control your son's actions now, how will you force him to marry the girl of my choosing?"   


"Once Kaprice is gone, he will have no longer be so obstinate," Athair snapped.   


Bowdyn only hesitated for a moment before agreeing: "Fine. I will have several men take care of her before Dawne is over."   


Athair nodded with satisfaction as Bowdyn stood. "Good night, chief Bowdyn. I hope you enjoy the first night of Dawne." 

A.N. - Alright, so a bit of the plot has decided to appear. Not the real plot, but the beginnings of it. 

Sorry about the long wait. But things are normal (whatever that means) now, and so I will go back to updating every other day. Really. For the next chapters. Two days is enough for me to write and rosefyre to beta. (thanks rosefyre! You're wonderful!) so come back for chapter 4 the day after tomorrow.

Pieces of the plot for this story are still drifting around in my head, not yet arranged into their rightful places. However, some pieces have settled down (more or less) and so, I've come to the conclusion that my title is wrong. And to make it right, I will have to change it. And as of this moment, the title Kaprice's Tears sounds more…right. (and no, I didn't choose that as the title because Kaprice is constantly crying, its for another reason that'll turn up in the ending; it really doesn't have anything to do with her cyring) So don't be surprised if the title is different during my next update. 

Hmmm….yes, I do believe that was all I wanted to say. Don't forget to leave me a review. Thanks for reading!

~krizsta


	4. Story Time

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4. Story Time

It was the third day of Dawne. Four more to go. 

Kaprice sighed wearily. The second day had passed, quite uneventfully. Everyone had stayed in late, getting the rest that they had not been able to get the night before because of the partying. The second night had also been full of dancing and songs, but no one stayed in late the next morning because of it. The third night of Dawne was the Night of Memories. And everyone was eager and impatient for it. 

Everyone was gathered into a large circle around Nimoy, the oldest member of the Black tribes and the official storyteller. Kaprice stood by the edges, far enough to hide in the shadow unnoticed, but close enough to hear Nimoy speak. 

"Where shall I start?" she heard him ask the others. 

"From the beginning!" the children, who sat right in front of Nimoy's stool, said. 

"The beginning? But then I'll be telling stories late into the night. Why don't I just start during the time right before The Devastation instead?" he suggested. 

The children paused to think about it, and then they nodded their heads in assent. 

"Very well. A long, long time ago, there was a great land known as Tortall. I was just a babe then, but my parents told me stories about that wonderful land when I was a child of an age like yourself," Nimoy said while glancing pointedly at a young boy who sat in front of him. 

"What was Tortall like, Nimoy?" a little girl asked. 

"It was a fine country. A land covered with green grass and flourishing trees," Nimoy stated proudly. "Before The Devastation struck, King Jonathan IV was the ruling king. He was a wise and just king, and his wife, Queen Thayet, was known as the most beautiful woman in the land."

"And what about the knights?" an eager boy asked. 

"Well, who do you want to hear about? The legendary Lady Knight Alanna, or perhaps Lord Raoul?" 

"Lady Alanna!" someone said. 

"Well, --"

"Wasn't Lady Alanna also a sorceress?" A young man asked. 

At the word 'sorceress' the crowd became somber and silent. 

Nimoy's eyes scanned the crowd carefully. "Yes," he finally said. "She was."

"But isn't magic evil?" a child squeaked from the front.

Nimoy shook his aged head. "Magic isn't by nature evil. It depends on the person who bears it. There were those who used their magic for good, like Lady Alanna and King Jonathan. But just as they were good, there were those who were bad. Those who used their Gifts to harm others. And it was they who helped to bring about The Devastation."

Everyone was strangely quiet. Nimoy's words seemed to echo across the sand to the ears of the young and to the old.

"It is said that The Devastation was caused by an evil mad mage. That he buried the world under his never-ending stretches of desert sand. It happened so quickly, like one fast explosion, that no one was able to stop it. Strangely, most of those who perished were the ones with the Gift. So many with the Gift perished that there were very very few left when the Devastation settled down. And that is why there is no magic here amongst the tribes. Magic has dwindled and gone."

Kaprice saw many of the tribal members exchange silent looks with one another. She knew that they were suddenly thinking of her. Her and her strangeness. A bitter taste formed at the back of her throat.

"And that is why the world we live in today is made up entirely of desert. However, there are still a few who have hope for our future. They believe that the gods will come and help, reverting everything to as it was before."

There were snorts of disbelief and scorn from the crowd.

Nimoy acknowledged them with a nod. "However, for most, the belief in the gods has dwindled. Where were the gods at our hour of ruin?" There was a sense of bitterness in Nimoy's voice. "Where were the gods when our land was buried underneath the desert?"

"Maybe they were busy with something else." a child offered.

Nimoy started, glancing down at the child in surprise. He suddenly smiled a tender smile. "Perhaps you're right, little one. Perhaps, when they are finished with whatever they are doing, they will turn to us."

"You sound like you are a believer of the gods, old man." Someone shouted out from the back.

Nimoy was silent for a moment. And then he nodded. "Yes, I am."

"They've done nothing to help us!" Someone else stated angrily. Other voices soon joined with their own angry protests.

"If we do not believe in the gods to come to our aid," Nimoy stated loudly, forcing other to be silent, "then who shall we turn to? The sands of the desert have entered our souls and we are now a bitter, bitter people. But if we do not believe in the gods, what are we left with?"

The silence in reply to his question stretched. Then a child spoke. "Nimoy, do you know who the Wanderer is?"

"The Wanderer?" Nimoy mused. He shook his head. "No. Legends have it that he is a ghost who wanders the desert fruitlessly as if searching for something. They say that he is a ghost from the time of Tortall before the desert."

The story of the Wanderer was a story told to disobedient children by their frustrated mothers. 

"A ghost?" A bold young boy said. "I don't believe in them."

"Very well," Nimoy shrugged. "but if you meet a strange man wandering the desert dunes alone, turn the other way and run. For it is said that no one has lived after facing the Wanderer. No one." 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Luckily, Nimoy decided to finish the rest of night with stories that were less controversial than magic and the gods. By the time he was finished, most of the children were asleep and even the young men and women looked tired. Everyone except the adults decided to call it a night and headed for their tents, some with lovers in hand and others who decided to get their rest alone. 

Kaprice headed for the oasis, wanting some quiet time beneath the stars before going back to her tent. But when she got there, she saw that someone was already standing at her usual spot under a tree.

"Kaprice," Ryker said as a way of greeting.

She stopped several feet away. "What are you doing here, Ryker?"

"Waiting for you, of course."

Of course.

She stared at him broodingly. Then, "Do you believe in the Gift, Ryker? In magic?"

"Magic?" He thought about it. "I don't think so. Magic and the Gift are things from the past. We have none of that now." He glanced up to stare into the night sky. "Although, sometimes I wish we did. I wonder what it would have been like to live in Tortall before the Devastation. To have magic." He shrugged. "They're foolish thoughts, I know."

"No." She shook her head. "They're not."

He glanced back at her, and their eyes met for the briefest of moments with no animosity. 

And then the moment was broken by a shout. "Ryker!"

Mindy suddenly popped out, seemingly from the middle of nowhere, and wrapped her arms around Ryker's waist. 

A flash of annoyance crossed Ryker's face, and Kaprice felt the same annoyance cross her own. Then she shook her head, turning away from the scene. 

"Kaprice--" Ryker started to say.

"Have a nice night, Ryker." she said in response. "I hope you have fun with Mindy."

The walk to her tent was supposed to be uneventful. But of course, it just couldn't be that way. 

About halfway there she heard footsteps behind her, but before she could turn around to face whoever it was, they tackled her down onto the sand and pulled a sack over her head.

****

A.N. - a little background, a little boring, but hey, it was necessary. 

Still puzzled about what happened three years ago? That will be explained more in uhm…three chapters from now. But just so I don't drive you crazy, let's just say that kaprice was hit with reality. 

And thank you, demented dreamer, for your very eloquent review. :)

Don't forget to leave me a review~!

~krizsta


	5. A Bad Night

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5. A Bad Night

To say that Kaprice was angry was a major understatement.

Kaprice immediately started struggling as soon as she felt herself being picked up. But someone pulled the sack tightly around her neck, and Kaprice found it more and more difficult to struggle without air to breathe.

Finally, just as Kaprice thought that she would pass out, the sack was pulled off, and she could breathe and see again. 

Kaprice glowered at the two men who were trying to restrain her arms. She recognized both of them.

Cowell. Mindy's older brother. And Ghris, Lonna's older brother. 

While they still had grips on each of her arms, Kaprice suddenly turned, throwing herself at Ghris and making the two young men lose their balances. All three of them tumbled to the sand, but before she pulled to her feet, she kneed Ghris in the groin and elbowed Cowell painfully in the gut.

She jerked herself away from the young men, stepping on a couple toes while doing so. "What the hell do you idiots think you're doing?" she demanded, eyes narrowed. 

Cowell managed to pull himself to his feet with as much dignity he could muster. "Kaprice--"

She suddenly glanced around, realizing that they had dragged her a distance away from the camp. "What is going on here." she said, voice dripping with sudden venom.

Ghris flinched at her tone, but Cowell just gave her an arrogant look. "We're going to kill you."

Her mouth dropped open with disbelief. "You're not serious."

Cowell suddenly unsheathed his sword from his belt.

All right, so he was serious.

Ghris also pulled out his sword.

_Uh-oh…_

Cowell smiled at her. "Bowdyn has given us the job of getting rid of you."

"Getting rid of me?" 

"Yes. The chiefs want you gone. It appears that you've worn out the their patience when it comes to their sons. Or actually, to be more specific, when it comes to Ryker. Athair is tired of your interference with him. But don't worry, Kaprice. We'll make the death painless and quick…if you do as we say," he said in a quiet, lilting voice.

Ghris gave Cowell an uncertain look. "Cowell--" he started to say.

"Shut up, Ghris. Let me handle this," Cowell cut him off.

Kaprice suddenly found that she was amused. "Quite similar."

Cowell looked confused. "What?"

"You and your sister are quite similar. You're both domineering, arrogant pigs." she said mildly. 

"Bitch," he sneered at her. He stepped closer to her, but luckily he had lowered his sword. "You're just jealous that my sister stole Ryker away from you."

Kaprice stared at him a moment. Then she laughed. "Domineering, arrogant, and _stupid_ pigs." While she spoke her taunting words, she was reaching into the folds of her robe for the knife that she always carried. Good thing she always tried to be prepared. All she needed was for Cowell to come a little closer…

She turned to Ghris. "Are you going to let this idiot boss you around?" 

Ghris shuffled on his feet uncertainly.

"Shut up! How dare you--" 

Cowell leaped for her, one hand tightly gripped around his sword. Kaprice also pounced, her knife drawn in front of her. Cowell's surprise at her weapon gave her the moment to slink forward and slash at his lower belly. Cowell let out a snarl of rage, and brought his fist flying across her cheek. Cowell then brought his sword up toward her, and she ducked, realizing too late that that move had just been a feint. 

Cowell's knee connected with her upper chest, effectively knocking the breath out of her body. Before she knew it, she was on her back; Cowell still had one knee pressed down against her chest, and his free hand was wrapped around her neck, slowly squeezing. It was only when she tried to attack him with her fists that she realized that she no longer held her knife.

Cowell leaned down over her, sneering at her again. The hand around her neck wasn't cutting off her oxygen, it was cutting off her blood supply. 

"Not so smug now, are you, bitch?" his breath was disgustingly close. She felt his tongue lick across her cheek.

"Cowell." Ghris finally spoke.

Cowell ignored him. 

Kaprice tried to turn her head away, but his grip just got tighter. It felt as if all the blood was rushing to her head. Her vision was starting to get misty around the edges.

"Cowell." Ghris tried again.

When Kaprice felt Cowell's tongue slide in her mouth, she bit down on it.

Cowell jerked away from her with a cry of pain. 

"Cowell! Stop it! This isn't what Chief Bowdyn sent us to do!"

Cowell suddenly released her throat, and Kaprice scrambled away from him, coming to stand dizzily on her feet. She gagged at the taste of Cowell's blood in her mouth. 

When Kaprice's vision cleared, she wasn't sure if what she was seeing was real or just fuzzied images. 

But then Cowell grunted, putting a foot to Ghris' shoulder while pulling his sword out of Ghris' chest. Ghris' dead body then limped to the floor.

Cowell turned back to her. His eyes contained a crazy, almost animal-like look, and his sword glinted with wet blood.

Her eyes widened and she started backing away. "You're insane," she said, an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

"And you're dead."

She needed a weapon. She needed her knife. Or better yet…Ghris' sword.

"You--you _killed_ Ghris!" she said, still in shock. Killing another member in your tribe was forbidden. It was as bad as betraying your family. Or worse, depending on the situation.

"And your next," he said in a flat voice. He continued to stalk toward her with his slow, almost drunken gait.

Almost there. 

"You don't want to kill me." Was it just her or was her voice just a tad bit higher than normal?

"You're wrong. You have no idea how much I do want to kill you."

All right then.

She was just inches from the body. But she couldn't just lean down and grab the sword. She would be a dead body by the time she straightened. 

Kaprice fell helplessly to her knees on to the sand. "Why? What have I ever done to you?" she asked him quietly. She bowed her head over her lap, but watched him continue to close the distance between them from the corner of her eye. 

Six steps. Five.

"You're so damn proud. You walk around camp as if you own it. You don't! You don't even have a damn family."

Four. 

"You're nothing. Nothing. You're not even worthy enough to be part of the sand that we step on."

Three.

"Oh? Well, how about being part of this sand!" Kaprice dug her hands into the sand and flung two handfuls of it at Cowell's face.

She easily ducked Cowell's blindly swinging sword, grabbed Ghris' sword, and bought it around in a swinging arc. She felt it bite into some flesh, but not enough. 

Cowell swung his sword again and this time she wasn't able to duck it because of the momentum of her own swing. The sword blade sliced across her shoulder.

She brought her sword back around and she heard Cowell gurgle when it hit.

Then she watched, her breathing ragged, as Cowell lurched to the ground, a bloody hand covering a deep wound in his side. 

She staggered back, sword falling out of her grip and her eyes wide as she watched the life flee Cowell's eyes. 

_Oh, no. What have I done_…

This was it. Cowell hadn't been able to kill her, but he might as well have anyway. Two dead bodies, one freak, and no witnesses. The others weren't going to believe a word she could say in defense. 

They were going to kill her.

Her dark thoughts were then pierced with screaming.

"You killed them! What have you done! They're _dead_!"

Tears were streaming down Mindy's face and she paced about, obviously hysterical.

_Where had she suddenly come from?_ Kaprice must have been so absorbed in her own thoughts that she didn't hear Mindy approach. Why was it that Mindy was always appearing at the worst times?

"I didn't! I didn't kill both of them…" 

Mindy leaped back, as if afraid for her own life when Kaprice stepped forward to defend herself. Then, still screaming, she turned back and ran to camp.

And from behind Mindy, she saw another person she hadn't noticed before. Ryker.

Ryker's face had the most fierce, angriest look on it. 

It was so condemning that she took an actual step back. "Ryker, I…"

She was able to face the others' looks of hate, scorn, and anger. But she wasn't able to face Ryker's. Not when he was the only one who had ever cared for her; not when she had once returned his love three years ago.

She turned away and ran, completely forgetting about her wounded shoulder, desperate for the solace of her own tent.

And that was her third night of Dawne.

****

A.N. - ah-hah! So we had a bit more action in this chapter.

To pronounce 'Ghris' just say 'chris' with a g sound. Sort of like: grrr-iss

To pronounce 'Ryker': RYE- cur

And if you're finished and looking for a thing to do, check out Rosefyre's fanfics. They're original and good. 

And thanks, rosefyre, for double-reviewing for me. I really appreciate it!

Thanks for reading. I'd love it if you stayed a little longer and left me a review.

~krizsta


	6. Missing

__

My monkey has coconuts up his butt. *smile*

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6. Missing

_She couldn't stay here_.

That was the first thought that ran through her mind when she reached her tent.

The second was that her shoulder really, really hurt. 

Once inside, she pulled down the shoulder of her robe so she could look at her wound. But looking at her own bleeding, torn flesh made her queasy. She needed to stop the bleeding and get the cut clean. But there was no time. 

She pulled the bloody robe back over her shoulder, ignoring the cold touch of the wet cloth. She had to go. And she had to hurry.

She pulled out a travel pack, stuffed it with a canteen of water, extra robes, and some left over food. She wished there was time to pack more, but found herself already walking out through the flap of her tent.

She could hear the slight sound of hysterical screaming. Mindy had probably approached the elders of the tribes by now. 

Kaprice quietly slung her pack over her uninjured shoulder and snuck into the shadows.

~*~*~*~*~

__

Mindy and Ryker, just before they came across the scene of the murders (this segment is from Ryker's point of view)

"Mindy, I'm tired. I just want to go get some rest." Ryker was right on the middle line of exasperation and angry impatience with the girl.

Mindy looked at him from beneath her eyelashes, a look that she probably thought was sexy. "Ryker, let me help you rest." 

Ryker grabbed the hands that were sliding down his chest. "Stop." His voice was cold.

She pouted at him. "Ryker, you're hurting me." Her eyes filled with tears.

He immediately dropped her hands and stepped away from her. He forced himself to breath long, controlled breaths. He wasn't in the habit of hitting women, he wouldn't start now. 

Not even with Mindy.

Suddenly, something caught his eye.

Off in the distance, he was able to see several solitary figures. It was too dark and they were too far away for him to know exactly what was going on, but he could tell that they were struggling with one another. 

Mindy's hands started to wander again. This time, however, he didn't bother to control himself. He roughly grabbed her hands and pushed her arms away from him. 

His gaze was sharp. "Don't touch me." There was an unspoken threat in his voice.

Mindy stared at him, lips clenched together with annoyance. 

"Go find someone else to bother, Mindy," he said flatly.

Her eyes narrowed. "It's Kaprice, isn't it?"

_Kaprice_…his eyes strayed back to the figures that continued to struggle a distance away.

"She doesn't want you. Did you hear me? She doesn't _want _you. Why aren't you over her?!"

Ryker's eyes latched onto one of the figures. He should have recognized it. It was a figure that he usually recognized anywhere.

Ryker didn't realize that he had started stepping away until he felt Mindy's hand on his arm. 

One of the figures fell to the ground and in that moment, Ryker started to run. 

"Ryker!" Mindy's shout was full of angry frustration. She ran after him.

_No. Please let her be all right_. If something happened to Kaprice…

When Ryker arrived at the site, relief flooded through him. Kaprice was still standing. There was a bloody sword shining on the sand in front of her, and there was blood on her shoulder.

Then he glanced around, easily identifying the dead bodies. The bodies of the young men who had tried to hurt her. For a moment, he was filled of absolute rage. He wished that the dead men would come back to life so that he could kill them all over again.

He was so angry, that he did not hear Mindy screaming. Well, actually, he did hear it. But it didn't register.

Not until after it had faded away. And not until he realized that Kaprice was suddenly gone.

He walked over to one of the bodies, the one that had been closest to where Kaprice had been standing. Cowell. Mindy's older brother.

It took every bit of Ryker's self control not to lash out in some way at the corpse. 

He had known Cowell. Not well, for Cowell was a member of the Black Sands tribe and not a member of the Black Hawks. But he had seen him at past festivals, had seen the dark, jealous looks he sent Ryker's way. The dark, almost sinister way that he always looked at Kaprice. 

He hadn't known Ghris as well. He had been more quiet and reserved than Cowell. 

Ryker heard Mindy's familiar screams, and the reality of the situation hit him. 

With two young men dead and Mindy's hysterics, there was no way that Kaprice would get away unpunished.

Mindy was crying loudly in some young man's arms as she approached. With her was Athair, Ryker's father, the other Black tribe chieftains, and other adults. 

The only coherent word that Mindy was able to speak was 'Kaprice.'

Bowdyn turned to one of the others. "Go and fetch Kaprice here. Now." The man left at a run.

"No."

A few of the men turned to glance at Ryker, but most were still trying to speak with Mindy. 

"No," he said again, louder this time.

His father's gaze pinned him to his spot. "What?"

"Kaprice isn't to blame here."

Athair frowned. "Mindy says that Kaprice has killed her brother and his friend."

"Mindy isn't thinking clearly. Kaprice killed no one."

Bowdyn's glance was sour. "Then how do you explain these dead bodies?"

Ryker turned to give Bowdyn a cold glare. "I killed them."

That shocked everyone into silence, even Mindy.

Ryker glared at Mindy, daring her to speak, to object. "I came across the young men and Kaprice. They were hurting her. They pushed me into a rage, and then I killed them," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

And amazingly, Mindy did not say any words of objection.

Bowdyn snorted. "We'll just have to see about that when Kaprice arrives to tell her story. Here comes the man I sent to get her."

The man stopped in front of the group, breathing raggedly. He was alone.

Bowdyn sighed in annoyance. "Well?" 

The man shook his head as he struggled for breath. "She isn't there. I checked in her tent, asked the others. I found foot prints going that way," he paused here to motion vaguely with his arm, "but other than that, there is no trace of her. She's gone missing."

****

~*~*~*~

A.N. - I'm glad everyone liked my chapter 5. I liked it too. 

Now I have a question for everyone: what do you think of Ryker? Love him? Hate it? Pity him? Maybe you're indifferent? Did this chapter (the way he acted) surprise you? Tell me, cuz I want to know. 

I would have also asked what everyone thought about Mindy, but people have already told me what they think of her. *smile* and I will tell you right now, she only gets worse (if that's possible).

~krizsta

P.S. Would you like this extra coconut? *holds a coconut up to your face*


	7. Pity

People had questions/comments that I could actually answer/respond to! So here goes:

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Rosefyre: premarital sex is okay within the tribes. However, all those who choose to partake in risky behavior will be held responsible for all the consequences their actions may bring about. 

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QueenFrosteen: very good question! Kaprice doesn't exactly have the Gift. The gods gave her their power for one purpose: to give her the ability to change the past. That's the _only_ thing it could actively do. She wasn't born with it, the power isn't hers (like the Graveyard hag and Daine's ability to raise dead dinosaurs). She can't light candles, she can't turn men into trees, she can't shoot lightning bolts out of her fingers. The few perks that the power came with, however, allows her to also have a little of the Sight (knowing random things), but her Sight isn't very reliable. The only reliable thing her power offers her is the fact that she could see other people's magic (think of the coal-thing the Goddess gave to Alanna that allows Alanna to see magic). But you'll learn more about that later. And just as Daine had to return her dinosaur power, Kaprice will have to return hers (when and if it's all over). So, basically Kaprice doesn't have the worries of an untrained Gift since it's not the Gift and not her own power.

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Demented-dreamer: I'm glad your willing to love Ryker for Kaprice's sake, but what if Kaprice doesn't want him anymore? Ryker and Kaprice get together? Hmm…we'll have to see about that *smile*. And guess what? You will learn what happened three years ago in the next few minutes if you _keep_ reading! However, it won't be from Kaprice or Ryker's point of view…

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Regen: sorry about the confusion. Ryker _is_ very rational and levelheaded about things…as long as they don't concern Kaprice. 

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ThePenMage: *smile* I would give Ryker to you, if he was mine to give away. Sadly, he's not. He's his own man…err…character. Maybe if you keep your fingers crossed, he won't be married to one of the tribal girls (or Kaprice) by the end of the story. To you and **MagixPawn** both: I'm glad you like Ryker's name. 

****

For everyone who asked me if I can update faster: I would if I could. But I won't be able to keep up with writing enough chapters to post one each day. And I'm not sure if rosefyre could beta within a day either. But hey, at least I am updating every other day, right? 

Alright, that's it. Here's a '**thanks**!' to everyone who reviewed. I would have loved to leave everyone a response, but I don't want to bore you. However, if u do want me to leave you a response, leave me an interesting/strange review. It's a sure way to get me to respond. 

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Warning, Warning: I'm changing perspectives again. The first part is from the Goddess' view, but we do get back to Kaprice toward the end.

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7. Pity

The Goddess' head was cocked to the side; she was looking into a mirror.

But she wasn't looking at her reflection.

There were the slightest of footsteps behind her, and she immediately recognized the gait.

"You are watching the mortals again," Mithros' voice rumbled behind her.

The picture of the handsome, sandy haired young man, his face creased with worry, disappeared from the mirror's surface. The Goddess turned to face the other god. "Yes," she agreed.

Mithros shook his head. "You shouldn't watch them so much. Your pity for the girl increases at every viewing."

"So what are you saying? That I shouldn't watch her any longer?" The Goddess scoffed.

He shrugged. "I can have someone else watch."

"No." The tone the Goddess used clearly expressed her refusal. "I will watch her." 

Mithros stared at her, clearly displeased.

"It was agreed that she would be my responsibility. You can have someone else watch her," she said, waving her hand in a dismissive manner, "but I will continue to watch."

"Do you consider that wise?" he asked after a moment.

She gave an indifferent shrug. She then turned back to the mirror. Instead of showing her the young man again, this time it showed her a solitary figure, wrapped entirely in a desert robe from head to toe, walking tiredly on the desert sands. Even though the desert hood covered the person's head and face, the was no mistakening who it was.

"The footprints that she left behind have been taken care of. The tribesmen will not be able to trace and retrieve her. Our plan is going well."

She heard what he said but did not give any signal to acknowledge it.

Mithros sighed before walking away. 

He was afraid that she would let her pity interfere with what they had to do. 

And truth be told, she was afraid of that too.

Kaprice was at a good age; ready to take the action that was necessary. The gods had been waiting for this moment for nineteen years. They had waited. They had cursed. They had sighed. And now the moment was finally here. Everything was going according to plan. 

There had been a few moments when things hadn't been going as they had wanted. But the gods had quickly interfered and set things to rights again.

For example, when the young Ryker had first come into Kaprice's life at her first Dawne, he had swept her off her feet. And she had been so happy…

But the gods couldn't have that. That disturbed their plans. And so the gods had implanted an idea into the mind of one of the mortals, a mortal who was a friend of Ryker's and part of his clan.

And the mortal had acted on the idea perfectly, luring Ryker away from Kaprice the morning after the last night of Dawne. He had told Ryker that something had happened out in the desert: his father and a couple of the other tribe's men had wandered out during the night and been attacked savagely by a beast. He had told Ryker that assistance was needed immediately. 

Ryker had been furious after traveling a sizeable distance away into the desert with several of his other comrades and discovering that his father and the others were healthy and whole. 

And he was even more so after the others told him that they would not let him return back to camp.

Back to Kaprice. 

And he had not even told her beforehand that he was leaving, for he had thought that he would be back in time to properly say goodbye.

_Poor girl…_

She was so unhappy. So unsatisfied with her life.

But it was necessary. The gods needed her to be unsatisfied, elsewise she'd never be willing to leave. And they needed her to. They needed her to run away.

But that didn't mollify her pity for the girl.

She wished there was some other way…

~*~*~*~

Kaprice gave a frustrated cry and threw her canteen down by her feet. She had just finished her water, and she was still thirsty. And hungry.

She was utterly exhausted, but she'd been unwilling to stop and rest for too long.

She had walked through the night; now, she was guessing that it was sometime mid-day. She hadn't stopped for the desperately needed sleep because she wanted as much distance between her and the camp as possible. If they found her now…

_Well, it doesn't really matter now. Even if they don't find me, I'll find my death just wandering here on the sand_. 

She was dead either way. Unless, by some chance, she found an oasis.

She quickly scanned the horizon, hoping…hoping…

But not finding.

With a great sigh, she plopped herself down onto the warm sand. She leaned back to lie on her back, careful of her shoulder which had continued to throb painfully even though the bleeding had stopped hours ago. 

She closed her eyes as sleep came over her, no longer caring if the mischievous wind decided to bury her under sand while she slept.

~*~*~

****

A.N. - a short chapter, but oh well. Thanks for responding to my question last chapter. But now I'm not sure if I should be happy or worried that most everybody likes Ryker. *makes face* 

there, didn't I tell you that you would find out what happened three years ago? Of course, it _is_ from the Goddess' point of view, so it will be different from Kaprice's, but now you know. 

So, story status: **1. **kaprice is stuck wandering in the desert with no provisions. 

**2. **The gods are happy that their plan is going well. 

**3. **Mindy confronts Ryker, and Ryker must …oh wait…that's part of the _next_ chapter. You haven't read that part yet. I must remember not to give things away too early. 

Well, alright, till next time then. And I'd really like it if you reviewed (I'll give you all the coconuts you want; my monkey has a secret stash up his…heh…nevermind)

~krizsta


	8. An Ultimatum and a Reluctant Knight

Responses (if you don't want to read these, just scroll down until you see '**Warning, Warning' **for the next chapter):

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Big Blue: oh no, you've found me out. You guessed very accurately. Damn, I've become predictable. Must…think…of…new…ideas….*an evil idea comes to mind* heh heh. I hope that at least the last segment of this chapter comes as an unexpected surprise.

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Smileypal4eva: ah hah! Someone who doesn't like Ryker! For some odd reason, I find that reassuring. I mean, it's not that I want you to hate him, but there are too many people who are obsessed. *smile* and that might cause several conflicts later on…

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Fluffy-bubbles: nope, daine, onua, those with wild magic did not survive the devastation. And nope, the mad mage isn't Numair. And the Devastation did kill some immortals, but some went back to the other realms and there are very few flying around. And I'll try to kill as little as possible. *smile*

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Keita: any sort of review is fine with me, thanks. And I might have some questions for you, so don't be surprised if I email/msn you. :)

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Cinereath: nope, the last chapter wasn't just an explaining chapter. Hiding somewhere between my responses to people and my strange author's note was chapter seven. Or were you just asking me if chapter seven itself was an explaining chapter?? Or am I just confused??

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PenMage: although I do like to make up my own names, I also like to flip through baby names books (not that I'm planning to have any babies any time soon). And because I don't quite remember how I came up with the name 'ryker', I'll stick to the safe side and not take credit for it. And yes. Gods can get in the way of true love. But some feel guilty about it (the Goddess) and although this may be giving something away: the Goddess will make it up to Kaprice later on. And never apologize for long reviews. I like long reviews. Oh, and about your fic: a friend was wandering around ff.net and waiting for my fic when she stumbled upon yours. And now she's hooked (a freakin fish, that's what she is *grin*). She wants you to update soon (well, so do I). I hope finals have gone/will go well for you.

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MagixPawn: I agree with your first comment. But whether that will happen or not is still in question. Hahaha, you're right, a battle over Ryker sounds interesting. 

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Kenta Divina: a happy ending for Kaprice? Well, who knows, maybe your definition of 'happy ending' will change several chapters from now. Keep me updated.

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QueenFrosteen: I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you enjoyed the last one. *smile* 

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Demented-dreamer: don't worry. The chapters after this one will be from Kaprice's view. KILL RYKER? Hehe, why would I do that? *innocent look* 

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RoseFyre: life does suck for Kaprice and Ryker, doesn't it. But then again, it's hard to have a story with a main character who has a perfect life. 

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Ibetinomrthnu: hey, I do that too! Doing things other than work on the school computers are fun…

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Silver fire: many of friends would have to agree with you: I am evil. Heh…heh…

Wow…I wrote responses to everyone. Insane.

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Warning, Warning: yep, you guessed it. I'm changing perspectives again. The first part goes back to Ryker while the second part is from *****'s point of view. (what, you expected me to give it away?)

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8. An Ultimatum and a Reluctant Knight 

There were no pounding music, no provocative dances, no happy young couples to celebrate the fourth night of Dawne. 

Instead of partying, the tribes had decided to take the fourth day of Dawne off to honor the deaths of Cowell and Ghris. 

Nobody believed Ryker when he told them that he had been the one to kill the young men. Mindy had not said anything to disprove him, but still the others just shook their heads at him, talking about his being smitten with Kaprice.

It made him want to take them by the shoulders and shake understanding into them. He didn't understand why everyone was so dead-set against Kaprice.

But luckily, the search for her was half-hearted. The supposed tracks that had been seen were gone. And so was the chance of ever finding Kaprice. 

Members of the tribe grumbled about that; they thought that she deserved a harsher death than the one the desert would give her.

Dehydration. Starvation. Madness.

__

And what about the Wanderer?

Ryker started in surprise. Where had that thought come from? He shook his head. The Wanderer was only a child's tale.

He sighed, wondering how Kaprice was now. She was tough: he knew that she would survive the first night alone.

But what about the second? Third? Fourth?

And what about that blood he had seen on her shoulder before she had run off?

He hoped that it was just one of the others' blood that had splattered on her. 

__

And what if she got attacked by some savage beast while she was out there?

He laughed bitterly at that last thought.

Attacked by a savage beast…someone had used that ruse on him several years ago.

And he had been foolish enough to fall for it. 

"You have a strange laugh."

A girl had approached him while he had been thinking. She seemed familiar, but he couldn't place a name to her face.

She seemed to realize his dilemma. "I'm Lonna," she said in her quiet voice. "Ghris' younger sister."

Silence.

"I'm sorry. About your brother, I mean," he finally said. 

Her eyes were big and luminous. "So am I." She looked at him earnestly. "Did you really kill him?"

That shut him down. "Yes," he said coldly.

She studied him carefully. "You must love her very much."

His eyes grew colder; he knew she was talking about Kaprice. "Not that it is any of your business."

"My apologies. I did not mean to offend you." She paused. "To be honest, I'm glad he's dead."

He blinked in surprise. "Who? Your brother?" Her constant jumping from one topic to another kept him on his toes.

"No, not my brother. Cowell." Her eyes were dark. "He was a mean bastard; he deserved to die."

"Who are you to talk? When you're friends with his sister, who is as spiteful as he is," he said with a pointed look.

She flushed. "Actually, I'm not. Not anymore." She turned to walk away, but turned back. "Beware of her."

"Her? You mean Mindy?" He gave her a look. "Why?" 

She shook her head, as if refusing to say more. But then she spoke, "She has plans for you." Then she walked away.

Ryker soon found out what those plans were before the end of the night.

The bodies had finished burning, and their ashes had just been thrown into the wind when Mindy approached him.

"Hi, Ryker," she said, smiling coyly. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"No," he said flatly.

She grabbed his hand. "Please, Ryker." She fluttered her eyes at him. "It's really important."

He started to walk away.

"Ryker, I will tell everyone the truth about Cowell and Ghris' deaths."

He stopped, turning to Mindy with a hard glare. "They don't believe that I killed them anyway," he said with a shrug.

"Well, what if I throw in a couple other lies? Maybe she seduced them away from camp with her immodest ways and then killed them out of spite? Or maybe she--"

"No one will believe you." 

"Oh? They would take your word, the word of a lovelorn fool, over mine?" she asked him sweetly.

That gave him pause.

"Or I could just add that she bewitched you with her magic powers, making you fall in love with her. That would really fire up the tribal members, wouldn't it?"

'Fire up' was an understatement. If Mindy said something like that about Kaprice… the men would travel to the ends of the earth, with the sole desire of killing Kaprice when they found her.

Magic had caused the Devastation. It had become forbidden afterwards. The tribes feared and hated magic, afraid that another Devastation-like event would fall upon them.

"What do you want?" He asked her flatly.

Mindy's smile widened. "I will tell the others that Kaprice used magic, unless…"

"Unless?"

"Unless you marry me."

His sudden, angry silence almost frightened her into backing away. But then she lifted her chin and stared back at him stubbornly. "Well?" she demanded impatiently.

He wanted to shout his immediate denial. He wanted to push her away and never see her again.

He wanted to protect Kaprice.

He spoke slowly and purposefully, "I'll think about it."

~*~*~*~

__

A strange, mysterious desert wanderer…

Only when he almost stepped on her did he realize that there was a sleeping girl half-buried in the sand in front of him.

He stared down at her, curious and yet cautious. The robe she wore completely hid her body, and its hood hid most of her face. The part of the face that he was able to see included her lips. Soft, full lips. Lips that definitely belonged to a female. The black stripes on her sleeves and hem identified her as a member of one of the Black Tribes.

It was a good thing he was not a member of the Maroon Tribes. The wars between the Black and the Maroon tribes were notorious.

He almost left her there on the sand to her probable death. Life hadn't been too kind to him these past years; he wasn't the same person he had been decades ago. The sandy winds had worn down his edges so that they were sharper than any knife.

But then his old knight training kicked in and, as a result, so did his desire to help the helpless.

He was just too damn soft, that's what he was.

He bent over and picked up the girl who gave the slightest of groans at being moved, but did not wake. 

She was tall for a female, but slender. And she was a lot lighter than she looked, probably because of the bulk that the desert robe added. 

Roald sighed and then started to walk, heading for his oasis.

The only thought in his mind was the hope that he wasn't going to end up regretting his generosity later.

****

A.N. - Don't you just love Mindy? She's always ruining everything. And she's quite predictable, don't you think? All she ever does is think about herself and screw the poor people who get in her way. 

So, a TP character decided to drop into my fic…or did he? Maybe he's just a TP character's child who was named Roald? Or maybe he's Jon's father, Roald? Or maybe he's some random guy named Roald. Or maybe I'm putting strange ideas into your head. Take your pick. 

Poor Ryker: to marry or not to marry. That is the que…err…the dilemma. Indeed.

~krizsta


	9. An Unusual Stranger

Sorry there was a delay with updates. I place full responsibility on school. And then the one night I was finally free of homework, the site wasn't working. Grrr. It's a conspiracy against me. It really is. 

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Responses (not to everyone this time, only for questions):

Henna: sorry for the confusion, I should have clarified that last chapter. *makes face* The shamans for these tribes are different from the Bazhir tribe shamans. Active magic is forbidden, but the Sight (the only 'magic' that the shamans have) is not. The tribes are afraid of the more blatant, 'you can see it in the works' magic. The Sight is passed down hereditarily (is that a word), and since Kaprice is an orphan with no family, her Sight makes them uncomfortable. In the last chapter, Mindy was suggesting that Kaprice had used active magic (spells, incantation, etc.) on Ryker. And with the way the tribes hate her already…that could be fatal. Hope this clears your confusion.

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PenMage: yes, I do go to school and I do go to sleep (not as much as I'd prefer, however). I just write a few chapters during each weekend and manage to stay ahead of my postings. Right now I'm writing chapter…17 (and what a troublesome chapter it is too). Oh, and my friend doesn't have a penname, she only comes onto ff.net for my stories (and now yours :) ) and as much as I also want Mindy to die, I don't think Mindy is going to. Sad isn't it? What do I think of Ryker? I like him actually. I want him and Kaprice to be together. But the way things are going now…I don't know if it'll happen. 

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And for everyone who asked "if Roald is the guy I think he is, why didn't he die with the others during the Devastation?": well, I guess the only way to find out…is to keep reading!

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Warning, Warning: we're sticking to Kaprice for this whole chapter. Wow.

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9. An Unusual Stranger 

__

Early morning; fifth day of Dawne

It was sparkling.

It was --_what?!_

Kaprice sat up and quickly glanced around.

She was sitting in a soft bedroll under a tree…in an oasis??

For a long moment she sat motionless on the bedroll, trying to gather enough wits to make sense of the situation. If there was any sense at all.

The oasis was small, big enough only to hold a couple trees, an average sized tent, and a small stream. But after living life in the endless desert, one always appreciated oases, no matter how small they turned out to be.

And around the oasis was the strangest looking …dome. The dome was a transparent dark blue; the blue reminded her of the night sky that she loved. She was able to see through the dome to the stretches of desert on the other side.

"Magic." That was the first word that came to mind as she stared, mesmerized by the shimmering blue. If it hadn't so beautiful, she would have been afraid.

Thirst jerked her out of her reverie. She reached for her canteen with the intent of filling it with water from the stream, but found it full already. And there was fruit by her full canteen for her to eat.

As she instinctively reached for a fruit, she realized that it was less painful for her to move her injured shoulder. The piercing pain was gone, and only a dull, weak ache remained. She could feel the bandages that were wrapped around her shoulder from under her robe.

Who had done all of this for her? Whoever it was, the person had brought her to this strange oasis, nearly healed her wound, and given her food and drink. And where was the person now? 

She would stay here, she decided, so she could meet and thank her benefactor. And also learn about what the mysterious blue dome was.

~*~*~*~

It was after sunset that day when she saw a figure walking towards the oasis through the sparkling blue dome. The robe the person wore hid him from her gaze, but by his gait, she was sure it was a man. 

As the figure got closer, she started to have second thoughts. The words of Nimoy came back to her: _But if you meet a strange man wandering the desert dunes alone, turn the other way and run. For it is said that no one has lived after facing the Wanderer…_

Kaprice had her hand wrapped around a cutting knife that she had found, along with other eating utensils, in the tent. She was suddenly glad she had it.

She watched as the man approached the edge of the dome. He knelt down and placed his hand on the dome's outer edge, murmuring several indiscernible words. 

The blue dome flickered as the man stood and stepped through it. Once he was completely inside, the flickering stopped.

He stopped just a foot away from the edge of the dome and a couple of feet in front of her. They stared at one another.

Kaprice's grip on the knife tightened. Thoughts scurried through her mind: _I should have left while I had the chance…how did he do that to the dome…is he really the Wanderer?_

He took a sudden step toward her, hand outstretched, and she slashed at him savagely with the knife.

His arm froze; the back of his hand bled from a diagonal cut.

And as she watched, the cut began to heal.

In just moments, the cut was gone and the blood had dried over completely healed skin. 

Kaprice gasped and took several wobbly steps back. 

"What the--what the _hell_?"

The man sighed and just shook his head. "Why don't you put the knife down?" he suggested quietly. "You won't be able to hurt me with it anyway." Instead of sounding taunting and triumphant about the fact, he sounded oddly bitter.

She put the knife down to her side and watch as he reached up and pulled down his hood.

He had dark black hair like her own and the most remarkable blue eyes. And he didn't look that much older than her. Most importantly, he looked very human.

But the healing that she just witnessed…that was definitely not human.

"You don't _look_ like a ghost," she finally said.

He gave a sharp bark of laughter at the forwardness of her statement. "If only I was."

She raised an eyebrow. "You want to be a ghost?"

"Yes. Then, at least, I'll be dead." He glared at his healed hand.

She stared at him, frozen with uncertainty. "Not being dead is a good thing," she finally said. After all, wasn't that what she had tried to avoid by running away?

"Speak for yourself," he objected.

Her chin went up a notch. "I am." 

His gaze was sharp and piercing.

She immediately felt bad. He had saved her from dieing in the open desert, and here she was antagonizing him about something he was obviously bitter about.

"My name is Kaprice," she said suddenly. "Thank you for--for--" she waved her hand vaguely at the oasis. It was strange to say 'thank you'. She had used the words so rarely in her past.

He just shrugged. "Sure."

There was a long awkward silence; the young man did not look as if he planned to break it.

"How did you do that?" She pointed to the dome over their heads. 

He stared at her. "You can see the protective circle?"

Protective circle? What was that? "Well, yes. Can't you?" she asked.

He just continued to stare at her intently. She had the sudden urge to pull up her hood and hide her face. What a strange young man.

"You are the Wanderer?" she asked tentatively.

"That is how I am known to most of the desert tribes," he said dryly.

She stared at him through narrowed eyes. "You don't look like a ghost," she said again. "Or like a mad killer."

"And I don't eat babies either. Or follow desert tribes around, cursing them to death. Or murder innocent people that I encounter." 

She suddenly at the craziest urge to smile. "Neither do I," she said.

His eyes widened slightly; he was surprised at her light tone.

"Are you hungry?" he asked her cordially. "I have food in my tent." He turned and headed towards his tent.

Indeed, she had seen the food. But she hadn't touched it. "No thanks. I've already eaten most of your food. I don't want you to starve because of me." But she followed behind him anyway.

He glanced over his shoulder, an amused look on his face. "Not to worry. I don't eat."

She froze mid-step. He didn't eat? Was he just teasing her?

He laughed when he saw her look of shock, but did not take back his comment. 

"Oh." Her voice was faint. "I'll take some food then." She forced herself to start walking again. "You never told me your name," she said, switching the topic.

"My name is Roald. Roald of Conte."

~*~*~*~

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A.N.- *skips around in circles* we met the wanderer, we met the wanderer, we met the…

Got questions about Roald? (whaddaya mean he doesn't eat; why is he still her age; how did he heal like that, etc) don't worry. They will be answered…in my next chapter. 

Awww…mindy wasn't in this chapter. Darn. Aren't you disappointed?

Ow, I just bit the inside of my mouth. I hate when that happens. 

I'm considering killing someone off (towards the end of the fic, not now). *ponders about it* who shall I pick, who shall I pick…

Don't forget to leave me a review!

~krizsta


	10. Impossible Death

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Responses: 

Fluffy-bubbles: so many questions! *smile* let's see if I can answer them all. Hmmm…wow, jon going nuts and using the dominion jewel to destroy the world is a _great_ idea for a fic, but that's not what happens here. Jon is not the evil mage. Neither is kaddar. And I have not seen tuck everlasting, so I can't answer the question "r u trying a tuck everlasting meet TP". nope, I have not forgotten about shinko, roald's wife. And what happened to the jewel? For the sake of keeping this fic from going haywire with complications, I'm just going to say it was destroyed during the Devastation. And although Roald _does_ have an important role (he'll be helping Kaprice out later), to say that he was 'chosen by the gods' like Kaprice was…is not exactly correct. I hope that answers all of our questions, if you have more, just ask away in your next review. 

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PenMage: I would gladly help you with the action segments of your fic (although I can't say I'm an expert at that kind of stuff), but I don't have your email! Or screenname, or etc! so in your next review, leave your email/aim/msn thing, so we can talk and conspire about your fic. (I don't have ICQ)

here's how to make things in your profile italicized/bolded. Put a I and then put the stuff you want in italics here. And when your finished, put a /I. And that last thing will end the italics. If u want it bold, put a b and then put the text u want bold here and then put a /b. hope that helps. :)

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Queen Frosteen: there were immortals who perished during the devastaion, and there were those who were able to return to the Realm of the Gods with their lives in tact. Very, very few immortals remain in the desert. And they are rarely seen by the tribes. 

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Big Blue: my story makes sense? Yay!

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Rya: I'm glad u like the fic, and I am trying to make them longer, I am! Really! 

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Warning, Warning: once again, this chapter is solely Kaprice's view. (but what about Ryker? Where'd he go?)

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10. Impossible Death 

Kaprice pushed away her plate, finally finished.

"Good?"

Kaprice smiled. "Very."

Roald nodded. "Good."

Kaprice watched Roald as he approached her. He knelt over her sitting form and motioned for her to lower the shoulder of her robe. After she had done so, he carefully unwound her bandages. 

She shivered when his cool fingertips touched her warm shoulder.

"No infection," he said after a moment. "which is extremely lucky for you, considering how it had remained uncleaned for almost a whole day," he said with a reproving tone of voice.

"There was no time," she said defensively. Not to mention how it had made her slightly sick just looking at it.

"As long as you aren't too rough with your shoulder, it'll heal soon." He glanced up at her. "But it will leave a scar."

She gave an indifferent shrug. "Then I'll have a matching pair. A physical scar of the event to go with the emotional one."

"What happened?" he asked her softly.

She turned away, jerking her robe back into place as soon as he had finished wrapping the bandages back around her shoulder. "None of your business." 

He sat down in front of her. "Sharing may help to heal the emotional scar that you say you have--"

"All right, then," she interrupted, "you first. Why are you so bitter about being alive?" 

Roald flinched, and it was is if her words had slapped him in the face. He looked away.

"Yeah. That's what I thought." But she didn't feel as triumphant as she sounded.

Roald turned to look at her again. "Fine then. Why don't we make a deal? I tell you my story and then you tell me yours," he challenged her.

This time she turned away.

He must have seen some look on her face, because he was immediately there. He leaned toward her and bent his head at an angle from which he could see her eyes. "I'm sorry, Kaprice," he said quietly. "You don't need to tell me if you don't want to."

He smiled when he saw her look of surprise at his apology. "I'm really not as arrogantly mean as one would expect a prin--" He came to an abrupt stop.

"What?"

He shook his head. "Never mind."

There was a short silence.

"Do you ever wonder," Roald said contemplatively, "if life is playing a trick on you? Perhaps even standing behind a tree a couple feet away and laughing at your misfortune?"

She glanced up and exaggeratedly pretended to peer behind a tree that was nearby.

Roald laughed. And although it wasn't seductive as Ryker's was, it was pleasant all the same.

"Do you ever wonder about why what happened in the past had to happen to you? Why you were the lucky one to be cursed with misfortune? Misfortune that was so horrible that you started to find death appealing?"

"Death does look prettier than life at times." she admitted. "But death isn't the answer."

Roald's blue eyes were sad. "But at least, for you, it's still an available option."

She blinked. "What?"

"Kaprice, I am ninety-two years old."

Her mouth dropped open. "Well. You age real well for nearly being a century years old," she managed to say.

He gave her a smile that wasn't in the least bit happy. "But that's the problem. I _don't_ age."

She managed to keep her mouth closed this time.

"In body, I remain twenty-two years old. The age I was before the Devastation."

So he was from before the time of the Devastation. The myths about the Wanderer weren't completely wrong after all.

"I'm not completely sure why, but my body has not changed a bit in the last seventy years. I don't age. Wounds get healed in seconds. I don't need to eat. My body refuses to die."

"But if you don't need to eat, why do you still have food and utensils in your tent?" she pointed out.

"I like to eat sometimes. It reminds me of my past…when I was more human." His eyes got a far off look. "Sometimes, the memories of my past are so clear that I wake in the morning, believing that I am in my bed, in my home, in Tortall. But then I glance around and remember…Tortall, my home, everything is gone now. And then there are days when I can barely remember anything. Not the faces of my family, not the names of my friends." He closed his eyes. "It would have been better to die with everyone else during the Devastation than even attempt to live like this by myself." Just from the tone of his voice, she was able to tell that he was remembering the painful memories of his past.

"But why are you cursed like this?" she asked him softly.

He opened his eyes. "It has something to do with this ring." He held up right hand. On his ring finger, he wore a gold ring. The ring had intricate designs all over its band, and in the center there was a shiny black stone. "It belonged to the mage who was responsible for the Devastation." There was an undercurrent of anger as he spoke. "The ring chooses it's bearers. After the mage died, it chose me."

Kaprice immediately pulled away from his hand. "Why don't you take the damn thing off?" There was something disturbing about the ring. It seemed to pulse with a life of its own. And every once in awhile, she saw crackles of sickly yellow power glinting over the black stone.

"I've tried to. It won't budge."

She shivered.

Roald leapt to his feet, quickly grabbing a blanket. "Are you cold?"

He settled the blanket around her shoulders, being especially careful with her injured one. "It's late. We should both get some sleep." 

He offered her a hand, but she refused it. She was a big girl. She could stand up all by herself. But she smiled her thanks. Roald was going out of his way to take care of her. 

"I'll sleep outside, you can stay in the tent. It'll be warmer in there."

"That really isn't necessary. You could take your tent and I could stay outside," she protested.

He smiled at her. "I can't die, remember? So, while you can get sick, I can't. I'll sleep outside."

He refused to listen to any more of her protests.

"Roald! Why are you being so nice to me?" she finally asked, exasperated. "I can take care of myself. I have for most of my life."

"Then, perhaps, it's time to let someone else do it for a change."

She stared at him suspiciously. Was he for real? But Roald's face was earnest and sincere. "Well, then, I should warn you that there are members of my tribe who are probably wandering the desert searching for me."

"Not to worry. No one will be able to find this oasis," he said confidently. He pushed her toward the open flap of the tent.

With an exaggerated sigh, she entered the tent and settled into the bedroll that was inside. She heard Roald doing the same right outside the tent.

"Roald?" she called out hesitantly.

"Yes?"

She paused, uncertain what to say. Should she thank him again? He had done a lot for her…

"Kaprice?" he questioned.

"Never mind," she said, her throat dry. "It's nothing."

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A.N. - there, we got to learn more about Roald and his strange situation. 

No Ryker in this chapter (or the next). As a matter of fact, he won't even be mentioned again until chapter…14. 

Did u still have questions about Roald? Leave them in a review and I'll try my best to answer them without giving anything away. 

Well, tell me what you thought of this chapter: review!

~krizsta


	11. A Pleasure

*sigh* if you thought the last chapter was short…then this one is absolutely tiny. I tried to combine this chapter with the next one to make it somewhat longer…but then the whole chapter scheme was off, and the one after the next one just didn't flow as smoothly. So instead of combining this chapter with the next one (12), I'm going to combine 12 with 13. And that's why this one is so damn short.

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Questions! I'll try to answer them in FAQ format here:

What happened to the other countries during the Devastation?

They were covered by desert too. Think like this: tortallan survivors became the black tribes, scanran survivors became the maroon tribes, and etc. etc. with more countries with their own individual color-coded tribes. 

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What happened to the animals during the Devastation?

Just like the humans, some managed to survive, some didn't. except, they had a much smaller survival rate.

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What exactly happened during the Devastation?

Well, I would love to tell you…but that would be giving more of the story away. You will find out later though.

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Why can't Roald age/be injured/etc.?

It's all the ring's fault!!

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Why doesn't Roald just cut off his finger to get rid of the ring?

First of, can I say 'owie, owwwie, owwie!'?. but here's a more substantial explanation: let's pretend that Roald did try to cut off the ring, and in the process, his finger. Then the ring would just magically transport itself back onto Roald's hand on a different finger, and then heal the finger that he had cut off, making his hand (once again) as good as new. And the process goes on and on if Roald insists on trying to cut off his finger again. 

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Why Roald? (why did he get the ring?)

He got lucky.

Well, after the mage died, the ring decided to magically transfer itself to Roald. Why not Roald? He's got the Gift, and he's next in line to the throne. If you were some magical parasite that wanted as much power as possible, would you want a knight or a prince? An older king or a still youthful prince? I'd say that the ring is pretty smart for a piece of metal.

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Who is the mage; have we met him before?

I'm still trying to decide if making Ozorne the mage is worth the headache of a plot it would cause later. (was his gift even yellow? I don't remember.) so don't be surprised if I just decide to make the mage a random new character that I made up. And yes, the mage died before the Devastation -- Roald got the ring before the Devastation. And that's why he was able to survive it.

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What religion are the tribes?

I can't say that they are of any religion, let's just say that they believe in making their own luck.

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You're going to hook Kaprice up with Roald, aren't you?

Heh…heh. 

Would you be so horribly disappointed if I did? *smile* Well, actually, I'm still not quite sure what's going to happen in the ending, and it's the ending that will decide who Kaprice ends up with. (I guess you'll just have to wait until then to find out) :)

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11. A Pleasure 

__

Sixth day of Dawne

"Good morning," Roald greeted her as she stepped out of his tent. He was kneeling over a fire. 

"What are you doing?" she asked curiously.

"Cooking breakfast. You do want to eat, don't you?"

"Don't baby me," she said with a face. "I could have cooked some food for myself."

"But I enjoy doing it," he said lightly. "I haven't cooked food in a long time. It's nice to finally have a good reason to do so."

She grimaced. "But you're still going out of your way to take care of me. By the time I leave here, I will be positively spoiled." 

"So will I."

She raised an eyebrow. "You? Why? I'm not the one cooking food for you. How would you be so indulged?"

He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Your company." 

"Hah," she scoffed. She sat next to him by the fire. "My company isn't worth that much." 

He simply turned to gaze at her silently.

"But then again, I suppose anything is better compared to seven decades of solitude," she amended, breaking his silence.

He let it go at that.

"Since you mentioned the topic of leaving, when do you plan to?" Roald asked her while poking at the low fire with a stick. A delicious smell rose from the pot that hung just out of the fire's reach.

"I…" Her voice faded into silence. "I don't know," she finally said.

"Is there a certain tribe you want to go to?"

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "I think the more appropriate question would be: is there a tribe that would want me?" She closed her eyes, not wanting to see pity on Roald's face.

"Kaprice?" He waited for her to reopen her eyes.

And when she did, she found no pity, only understanding.

"You can stay here if you want. For as long as you like," Roald said to her quietly.

"Damn it, Roald." She got to her feet angrily. "Stop being so nice to me. You don't even know me. So stop. For all you know, I...I could be a murderer. A thief. A cursed, idiotic _freak_." She blinked, suddenly realizing that her words could almost be described as a yell.

She didn't understand him. Why was he so kind to her? Why wasn't he judgmental and condemnatory, like the others? Why wasn't he suspicious? Afraid? Mistrusting? Damn him and his…his _kindness._

But Roald didn't look at all put out by her sudden outbursts. 

"I am known as the Wanderer to the desert tribes, Kaprice." His voice was so quiet that she could barely hear his words. "If you think that you are a freak…then what am I?"

She started to back away from him, but he grabbed her hand. 

"Kaprice?" His blue eyes were dark with concern.

"I--I need some time for myself, Roald. Please, leave me alone."

"Kaprice…" 

Roald reluctantly loosened his grip around her fingers and let her go.

~*~*~*~

The sun had set and the stars were twinkling.

And Roald still hadn't returned.

Despite her earlier anger, she was worried. Which was foolish, of course. He had told her that he couldn't be killed. But still…

After she had stated her desire to be left alone, Roald had put out the fire and promptly left his oasis. 

She felt bad about the way she had snapped at him. She had been angry at his kindness. Because she didn't understand it.

Because she was afraid of it.

She was afraid to actually relax and enjoy herself. Because the one time that she had actually let that happen…she had lost it all in the next moment. And the pain from that event, be it three years old or thirty, she would remember forever.

Reality is a harsh judge.

She suddenly saw a familiar robed figure approach the blue dome, and she leaped to her feet. So when Roald stepped through his blue dome, she was waiting for him. 

They stared at one another.

"It's late, Kaprice. Aren't you tired?"

"Not really." She paused. "What have you been doing all day long, Roald?"

He ran a hand through his mussed hair. "Wandering around, doing what The Wanderer does best," he said sardonically.

"I see…"

"If you still want some more time--" Roald started to step back toward his dome.

There, he was being nice to her again.

"No." She grabbed his wrist. "I don't need any more time."

"Very well," he said formally. "Will you be sleeping inside or outside of the tent tonight?"

"Outside," she answered quietly after a hesitant pause. "I want to look at the stars." 

~*~*~*~

"Roald?"

Roald turned onto his side on his bedroll a foot away from her own. "Hmm?"

"Thanks. For everything."

There was a short pause. "It was a pleasure."

****

A.N. - I'll be going through the rest of my chapters to make sure they're longer. But making chapters longer will have a drawback: fewer updates. 

I'll just have to wait and see how things work out.

~krizsta


	12. Meeting the Goddess

****

A few questions:  
How did the mage get the ring off so the ring could go to Roald?

He didn't get it off. He died. 

****

How did the mage cause the Devastation if he died?

Let's just say that…he set the process in motion. 

****

What did the mage want/ why did he set up the Devastation to occur?

What does every villain want? Wealth and power.

****

Can Kaprice see stars through the dome/what is the dome?

The dome is Roald's protective circle. His gift is the dark, shimmery, night-sky blue. And it is transparent, so she can see through it. Sort of imagine looking through dark blue tissue paper toward the light. 

****

When did the Devastation occur?

1-2 yrs after LK.

****

I miss Ryker! (yes, I know, that isn't a question)

Well, since I combined two of the chapter I had written together to form chapter 12, Ryker will appear (indirectly) in chapter 13 and not 14. Rejoice, ryker fans, rejoice. 

But then again, this will not be a favorite chapter for Ryker fans. 

****

Warning, Warning: I'm switching views again. But to make things clearer, if the following segment is from Kaprice's view, I will have the title "_Kaprice"_ at the beginning. And if it is Roald's view, I will title the segment "_Roald"_. This is also how I'll manage the changing of views for future chapters. All right, that's it.

P.S. - when Gainel speaks, his words will be in _italics_ and have asterisks (*) around it.

****

12. Meeting the Goddess 

__

Kaprice

This had to be a dream. 

Kaprice stood in a misty fog. The air smelled of green leaves and flowers. A strange smell for the desert.

"Kaprice?"

Kaprice turned, searching for origination of the voice that had spoken. She found Roald several feet away with his back toward her. He seemed to be squinting at something.

"Roald? I'm over here, behind you."

Roald turned to face her, and he gave her a puzzled glance. "Kaprice? Then who's that over there?"

"Over where?" she asked.

At that moment, the fog separated. And she was able to see what or, actually, who Roald had been squinting at earlier. 

A tall, slender woman. With long black hair and blinding green eyes. 

It was like looking into a mirror. 

She and the strange woman were practically identical in physical appearance, except for their clothes. But as Kaprice continued to stare, and the strange woman stared back at her, Kaprice noted several differences between them. The woman exuded an other-worldly air that was dangerous and almost frightening. The woman's gaze held hers with unavoidable certainty. 

_She can't be human… _Kaprice shivered.

*_All right, enough of that_.* An unfamiliar voice spoke. *_Goddess, do you want to introduce yourself or shall I?*_ A man suddenly appeared, a pale man wearing a contrastingly black cloak.

The strange woman laughed. "I will introduce myself, Gainel." She turned to Kaprice and Roald. "Welcome. I am the Great Mother Goddess."

Roald's blue eyes widened. "Great Mother Goddess…" he breathed aloud.

Mother? Kaprice was filled with a small glimmer of hope. "Are you my --"

"Mother?" The Goddess interrupted. "I am a mother, of sorts, but not the one you are searching for." Her face softened. "I am sorry."

The small hope that Kaprice had felt was quite thoroughly squashed. "Then who are you and what are we doing here--"

"Your mother is dead." The woman interrupted again. "That was how we found you. You were crying beside the dead body of your mother in the desert alone."

Kaprice found herself fighting off sudden, angry tears. Who was this woman? Some goddess? And why was she telling her this? Wasn't it enough that she denied being her mother? 

__

*Goddess,* the strange man said to the woman warningly.

The woman sighed. "My apologies. I sometimes forget what it means to be human. Gainel tells me that you are offended. He knows much more about humans than I; he is constantly working with them."

"I'm fine," she said through clenched teeth.

"Kaprice." Roald stepped closer toward her, offering his support. He then turned to the woman. "Goddess, I hope you don't find me too bold for asking, but why are we here?" he asked in a formal, wary tone.

"Wait, wait, wait," Kaprice said. She shook her head, as if to clear it. "Goddess? She's a goddess? Gods don't exist."

Roald glanced at her. "They did during the time of Tortall. And, apparently, they still do."

Kaprice turned to glare at the woman and man. "That doesn't make any sense. If the gods still do exist, why didn't they help us? Why didn't they somehow reverse the Devastation? Or keep it from happening at all?" 

*_We weren't able to. We did try to help, but there wasn't anything we could do. And by the time we figured out a way we could help, it didn't matter anymore.*_ The man said patiently.

"Why not?" Kaprice demanded.

"Because," the woman spoke this time, "we were losing power. As human belief in us waned, so did our power." She gave them a wry smile. "A god is nothing without his followers. By then, there were few who believed that we even existed anymore. We weren't strong enough."

Kaprice considered the gods' words.

"But what does that have to do with us?" Roald asked softly.

"When Kaprice was still a baby," the Goddess began, "she was chosen as our instrument. She was--"

"Stop talking about me like that," Kaprice snapped. "I'm standing right here."

Roald gave her a concerned look but did not move to touch her. Even though he had only spent a few days with her, he could see that she was in a bad temper at the moment. 

The Goddess continued on as if Kaprice hadn't interrupted, but this time she turned to stare squarely at Kaprice as she spoke. "You were chosen. You were infused with our power."

There was an expectant silence.

"And what does that mean?" Roald finally inquired.

*_It means,* _Gainel said, *_that Kaprice has the ability to change the past.*_

Kaprice was still trying to absorb the fact that she was 'infused with power'. "This power," she said contemplatively, "it wouldn't by any chance give me the ability to know about things that I shouldn't know about, should it? Things like being able to predict the weather?"

*_Actually, it would,*_ Gainel said.

Kaprice closed her eyes, hoping that the action would somehow help her control her anger. It didn't. 

Kaprice opened her eyes to stare coldly at the Goddess. "You should have just let me die beside my mother."

The Goddess looked pained. "You have lived a hard life, we do know this."

"Oh? How?" she asked suspiciously.

"We are gods. We have the ability to see almost everything. We have ways."

"Oh? Then you know about how your damn magic ruined my life? How others of my tribe despised me for being different? No, it wasn't enough that I was an orphan, you had to give me this damn power too!"

There was a heavy silence following Kaprice's outburst. Then the Goddess spoke in a quiet, calm voice. A voice one would use to talk to an impetuous child.

"We do know about your past. And if you were any other person, I would say that the past was past and that you need to move on. But you, _you _have the ability to change the past, Kaprice. You can change the past and, as a result, the future. Use the power that we've given you." 

Kaprice gave an ungraceful snort.

"You have the ability to reverse the Devastation. If you do that, you will change the outcome of the world. There would be no desert. No tribes. No fear of magic. You could start over."

_Start over_…

"And if I don't want to?" she challenged, just for the sake of stubbornness.

"Daughter, it is your choice. But will you give up the chance to start over? Will you continue your solitary life in the desert?"

*_It is time to go…*_ the Dream king said. 

"Consider it, Kaprice. And then choose. Choose."

****

~*~*~*~

Kaprice jerked awake in her bedroll.

Roald sat up in a more dignified manner.

They stared at one another, acknowledging that the dream was more than just a simple dream.

Kaprice then groaned, laying back on her bedroll. She turned to lay on her side, her back to Roald.

Roald scooted over to sit by her on her bedroll. She could feel the warmth of his body against her back. He leaned his head over her shoulder and glanced down at her.

"What will you do?" he asked her gently.

She repositioned her body so that she lay on her back and could stare at the night sky through Roald's blue dome. 

"I wish I were normal," she said.

"If you were normal, you wouldn't have ever met me."

A smile touched Kaprice's lips, but it was a tiny, almost undistinguishable smile. 

"What will you do?" he asked again.

"I do like the idea of reversing the Devastation, but…"

"But?"

"I don't want to be the gods' puppet. I realize now that they have been controlling, directing, ruining my life all along. Do you know what it's like to be alienated by your own tribe? I had no friends when I was a child because parents refused to let their children play with me. None of the families wanted to adopt me, I was passed around constantly, an unwanted burden, until I was able to fend for myself. I hunted and obtained my own food because the tribe begrudged me my fair share. I had to trade my own things for clothes and tents. I was always on my own. This magic that the gods have given me, it's _ruined_ my life." She shook her head. "I'm tired of being pushed around like that. I'm tired of being alienated by the others, of being alone. I just want to be normal. Even if it was just for a moment."

Roald looked down at her with his unblinking blue eyes. "You would have loved living in Tortall."

She turned her gaze to stare back at Roald steadily. "You know, I'm glad to have met you."

"Glad to have met the Wanderer?" he said dryly.

She smiled. "Yes. I've never met anyone quite like you before. You didn't judge and condemn me, even when I lashed out at you unfairly." She sat up, turning to face Roald. "I can be a real idiot sometimes."

Roald's gaze fell to her lips. "Even the blackest idiot has a quality about himself that makes him shine."

After Roald's words, there was a short silence in which only the wind had a voice. Then they both leaned toward each other, coming together with a kiss.

~*~*~*~

__

Roald

Roald was walking in a foggy mist again. He saw a form coming out of the mist toward him. "Kaprice?"

"She isn't here." 

"Goddess." Roald inclined his head respectfully, but did not break into a full on bow. His opinion of the Goddess, or actually, all gods in general wasn't very high at that very moment.

"Kaprice has agreed to trying to change the past and preventing the Devastation?" 

"She did," he answered stiffly. "But not because she wanted to please you."

Roald was surprised to see the almost affectionate look on the Goddess' face. "No, I wouldn't have expected her to. She is very stubborn." 

A golden medallion suddenly appeared in the air in front of him. 

"Take this. You will need it. Wear it and take good care of it." the Goddess said.

Roald uncertainly plucked the medallion from the air and held it in his fist. "Is this why I was called here? Is that all that you wanted?"

A troubled look appeared on the Goddess' flawless face. "No."

"No?"

"Kaprice…she is still very troubled with her past life, is she not?" The Goddess asked him hesitantly.

"She hasn't told me too much. But yes, she is."

The Goddess contemplated on that. "You do not need to follow my suggestion, for you too have the ability to choose, but I suggest that you pull your protective circle down for tomorrow night."

"Why?" But even as he asked, he found the fog getting thicker, his eyelids becoming heavier. 

"She will have a visitor. Or at least, she will if the visitor can find your oasis. That is up to you."

"A visitor? Who?"

If the Goddess answered, Roald wouldn't have known. He had left the dream and fallen into a silent sleep, his hand wrapped tightly around a golden medallion. 

~*~*~*~*~

****

A.N.- tell me, was this chapter long enough for you? :)

~krizsta


	13. Memories

****

Responses: 

Jynessea: The answer to your question is yes. I'll have more info about that in later chapters of the fic.

PenMage: well, the visitor doesn't come in quite yet: that's chapter 14. 

Bigblue: I will clear up more about the mage when I come to him with the fic. your question will be explained then. :)

Zenin: a question I could actually answer! Yep, Roald would obviously _want_ Kaprice to change the past (that's why he was so curious about what she was going to do), but he wasn't going to force her to do it if she was _really_ against it. And Kaprice only hesitated because she was angry. She didn't want to seem like the willing servant who would always bow down to the gods' commands, doing whatever they wanted her to do. She was sending a message: do not expect me to acquiesce easily while you boss me around and ruin my life.

****

13. Memories 

__

Kaprice: The Seventh and Last Day of Dawne

"So that's what it's for!"

Roald laughed at her excited tone. "It's not that big a deal."

"Yes, it is." Kaprice squinted at Roald's blue dome. "Could I walk through it?" Roald had just explained to her what the protective circle was about. 

"You could," Roald nodded, "but you won't be able to come back in unless I pull it down."

Kaprice reached out with a hand and touched the shimmering blue dome with her fingertips. "It's very lovely," she said softly. "The color reminds me of the night sky. If I had the Gift, I would want it to be this color."

Roald smiled with amusement. "You would want this color of all colors?"

She turned away from the dome to smile at him. "Yes." Her gaze then dropped to the glittering medallion that hung from his neck. She had noticed it earlier in the morning, but she had forgotten to ask him about it. "Roald, where did you get that?" 

He glanced down to stare down at the medallion. He then glanced back up to meet her curious gaze. "The Goddess gave it to me."

She immediately frowned. "Why? When? I don't remember seeing her give it to you."

"She gave it to me after we fell asleep after the first meeting." He shrugged. "She said to wear it. That it was important."

"I see," she said. Then, "I don't trust her."

"She is a god," he said as a way of explanation. "Who knows what her real intentions are. I wouldn't be surprised if she came into our dreams again tonight, to talk to us about…reversing the Devastation."

"Wonderful," she said dryly. "I look forward to it."

~*~*~*~

__

But instead of being visited by gods that night, Kaprice was visited by memories…

For the first time in her life, she didn't mind everyone's stares. Because she was happy.

But as the week started to draw to a close, so did that happiness.

Ryker lifted his hand, using his thumb to trace the downward curve of her lips.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

She pulled away from him for a moment, staring up at the dark night sky.

"Tonight is the last night of Dawne," she said quietly. 

"So?"

"Ryker…" She shook her head as she turned to gaze at him.

He gently covered her mouth with his fingertips. "Tomorrow is the end of Dawne. Dawne. Not us."

"That's not the truth, and you know it," she said flatly.

"Are you saying that you want to break it all off then?" he asked her, tone suddenly serious.

"What I want has nothing to do with this. It's what _they _want. What the others want. And what they want is for us to stop seeing one another."

He shook his head grimly. "We could fight them." 

"How can you say that?" she said with sudden frustration. "You are Athair's son. And I am …The Freak. There is no way our relationship can survive."

"You give up too easily."

"It's not that I want to, Ryker, but we have to be realistic."

"You've never cared about what the others have wanted before. It was one of the things that I always admired about you," he said with a soft smile. "So why do you care now?"

"Ryker… everyone here hates me. You know that. And our relationship just makes that hate even more fierce."

He shook his head. "I don't hate you."

She smiled at him, reaching up to touch his cheek. "Your father does. And he hates our relationship too." She reached up to caress the skin over his cheekbone. There was a small discoloring there that was nearly invisible because of his desert tan. "Did you think that I would not notice this bruise on your face, Ryker? I don't want your father to hate you because of me. I don't want him to hit you. I don't want you to be hurt."

He clenched his jaw, reaching up with his hand to grab her wrist and pull her hand away from the bruise. "I can handle my father," he said.

But she saw the glint in his eye. The glint of hurt, anger, and stubbornness. 

"I don't want you to," she said quietly, leaning up to place a soft kiss over his bruise.

He suddenly reached for her, pulling her into a tight embrace. "We will not end. I will not let our relationship end. Luck has let you walk into my life, and now I refuse to let you walk away." He spoke with fierce determination.

She rested her head against his shoulder, feeling a great sense of relief at his words. She didn't want him to leave. 

Luck. A strange thing it was. Since that moment he had pulled her name during the drawing on the first night of Dawne, they had nearly been inseparable. Was it really possible to fall in love with someone within the span of a single week? Well, from what she felt, she believed so. 

"We can face everything our tribes send against us, Kaprice. Together."

"Yes. Together," she agreed. But deep down inside, the uncertainty refused to leave her heart.

~~~~~~

"Ryker?" 

Kaprice reached out beside her, hands searching for the warmth of Ryker's body. 

Not finding it, she sat up and glanced around the tent. 

"Ryker?" Where was he?

She stood up, pulling a robe around her from and stepping out into the mid-day sun. Others of the tribe were already awake and preparing to leave now that the festival was over.

One of the girls from the Black Hawk tribe saw Kaprice's look of puzzlement and spoke. "Looking for Ryker, Kaprice?"

Kaprice turned to glance at the girl suspiciously. "What's it to you?"

The girl just laughed mockingly. "Ryker, his father, and several of the other young men left camp at dawn this morning. Now that Dawne is over, they have to get back to work. They left to get a head start and will be waiting for the rest of our tribe to meet them by tonight."

Kaprice's throat was suddenly dry. "He …left?"

The girl gave her a pitying look. "He didn't tell you?"

Kaprice turned away, but before she did, she saw the looks on the other girls' faces. They were all laughing at her. And it wasn't just them, she realized, as she glanced around. Other adults lingered around her tent, the same snide looks on their faces. It was as if everyone in camp had migrated around her tent so that they could see her reaction when she was first told of Ryker's leaving. It was all a great show.

_No. She's lying. Ryker wouldn't just suddenly leave me, without even a goodbye_. She forced herself to stand straight, glared at all her spectators, and then retreated back into her tent.

By sunset, Kaprice had to admit defeat. He was gone, and he wasn't going to return. The rest of the Black Hawk tribe had already left camp, and tomorrow the Black Sands tribe was also going to leave the oasis. 

She had stayed inside her tent for most of the day. The one time she had left had been a very unpleasant experience. Everyone had stopped whatever it was that they had been doing and turned to stare at her and laugh. 

_A fool. To think that she was worthy enough to court a chieftain's son, _everyone was saying. They were never going to leave her in peace.

She felt so incredibly lonely. She had never realized or even stopped to notice it before, but having spent a whole week with Ryker and now being without him …her loneliness fell upon her like a rock from the sky. 


	14. A Sense of Closure

MUWHAHAHAHA…*cackles like the insane person she is*

Uhmm….anyway, back to the story and the next chapter:

Enjoy! …or not…

****

14. A Sense of Closure 

__

Roald

Roald saw the approaching stranger while he was still a distance away. He sat by the stream of his oasis, waiting. And watching.

He had lowered his protective circle for the night. 

It wasn't that he trusted the Goddess. It was just that she had sounded truly concerned about Kaprice and her past. Concerned and …guilty. 

And so he had decided to take the risk and lower his circle. But he still had his doubts. That's what he was waiting and semi-standing guard. It was just before dawn and Roald had not bothered to wake Kaprice yet.

The stranger literally staggered onto Roald and his oasis. "Please, can I have some water--"

"You've come to see Kaprice?" Roald interrupted coolly.

The stranger blinked, hazel eyes widening. Then he turned, quickly glancing around the oasis. 

Roald knew the exact moment the stranger spotted Kaprice. The stranger's hazel eyes softened visibly, and he stared at her as if to memorize every curve of her body. Roald glanced away, feeling like an unwanted intruder.

A long moment later, the strange spoke again. "Can I have some water?" His voice was rough with disuse.

"Of course." 

The stranger knelt to fill his canteen with the oasis' water, but even as he did so, Roald saw his gaze falling back onto Kaprice.

"You have been taking care of her?" 

Roald stared at the young man, realizing how handsome he actually was. Roald felt a small bit of jealously spread through out his heart. "Yes, I have been taking care of her."

"You're the Wanderer, aren't you?" The young man's gaze was sharp.

Roald nodded, but did not speak.

The next moment was a tense one, with both young men assessing the other. Roald saw the reflection of his own jealously flash across the young man's hazel eyes. 

Then Roald got to his feet. "Stay here. I will go wake her up so that you two can talk."

The young man stared at him guardedly, but then nodded, taking a sip of cool water. "Thank you."

~*~*~

__

Kaprice

"Kaprice?"

Kaprice opened her eyes to see Roald kneeling over her. She smiled at him sleepily. "Good morning, Roald." 

Roald gave her a smile, but she noticed that it was a sad one. Before she could ask him about it, he spoke. "There's someone here to see you."

She blinked. "What?" She sat up, glancing around. And she saw him. "Ryker…"

"Go talk to him. He's come all this way to see you." And he moved away before she could speak again.

Kaprice unsteadily pulled herself out of her bedroll and grabbed a robe, pulling it on over her undershirt as she approached Ryker. She stopped a couple feet in front of him, and they stared at one another.

"How did you get here, Ryker?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "To be completely honest, I'm not sure. I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. And I arrived here."

"You look horrible. How long has it been since you last got some proper rest?" she said disapprovingly.

He shook his head. "I don't know. I don't care. All I wanted was to somehow find you."

"Ryker…" she sighed warily. "You shouldn't have come."

His gaze was sharp. "Of course I had to come. I wasn't about to let us separate again without even saying goodbye."

She just shook her head. With a sigh, she put a hand on his arm. "Come. Roald has food in his tent. Eat and sleep. Then we can talk."

~*~*~

__

Roald

Ryker was sleeping.

Kaprice sat beside him. Her legs were drawn up toward her chest and she rested her chin on her knees. She was watching Ryker sleep.

Roald stood under a tree by the stream, watching Kaprice watch Ryker.

Roald had kept his distance from the two. He had watched silently as Kaprice offered Ryker most of the food that they had left. Had watched as she had gently pushed Ryker onto her own bedroll so that he could sleep. Had watched as she kept her vigil beside Ryker. She had not even gotten up for food or drink. 

It was quite obvious to him that she cared about Ryker a great deal. 

And he couldn't help but feel jealous.

Ryker started to stir, coming awake. Roald heard the echoes of soft words float to his ears. Although he wanted to, he didn't eavesdrop on the conversation.

After all, he was brought up better than that.

~*~*~*~

__

Kaprice

"You're not going to go back home, are you," Ryker said with sudden realization.

"If anything, this is my home. But no, I am not going back to the tribes. I have no life there." 

"Then I'll stay here with you--"

Kaprice touched her fingertips to Ryker's lips. "No. You still have a life back with the tribes. Don't give it all up for me."

"I would give my life for you if it was necessary," he said to her roughly. "And I don't give a damn about my life back with the tribes."

She shook her head. "We cannot be together. Why can't you just accept that?"

"Because it's not true."

She sighed. "Ryker. It is true. And besides, if we did manage to run off and be together, what kind of life would we have?"

"A better life--"

"No," she forcefully interrupted. "Ryker, I never told you, but the truth is that I have already forgiven you for what happened three years ago. I've forgiven you for it a long time ago."

"But then _why_--"

"I learned from the event. You are the chieftain's son. I am nobody. I _will_ _not_ _let _you ruin your life by marrying me. By loving me. Do you hear me, Ryker?" She suddenly heard the trembling in her voice and paused to try and control it. "The reality of the situation is: even if you were allowed to be with me, I would not let you." She made sure her words were perfectly clear.

He flinched back and shook his head. He wanted to protest, but she gave him a piercing glance.

"Will nothing change your mind?" he finally asked.

She wanted to. She really did. 

"No. Nothing. I've made up my mind."

He was silent for a moment. Then he suddenly moved, reaching into his robe pocket. "I have something for you. I was planning to give it to you later, perhaps at the next Dawne."

He held out a small bag.

Kaprice took it and opened it. At first, she thought there were grains of sand inside the bag, but after examining the contents, she realized that her assumption was wrong. She poured out some of the contents onto the palm of her hand and stared. She glanced up at Ryker, puzzled. "You're giving me seeds?"

He gave her a sad smile. "Yes. Seeds of the--"

"Rare desert bloom," she finished, her eyes widening. Seeds of the flower he was always saying that she smelled like. "But these must have cost a fortune!" she immediately protested. The flowers themselves were rare; the seeds for them even rarer. Traders had the seeds sometimes, but they were usually unwilling to part from them.

Ryker gave her an exasperated sigh. "Kaprice, your happiness means more to me than money. Don't you know that by now?" His voice was heartbreakingly gentle. 

She stared at him. 

He sighed again, teasingly this time. "Apparently not."

She made a face at him and stood up. "It's getting late. You should go before it gets dark." She carefully poured the precious seeds back into the bag and folded the bag shut.

He nodded.

There was an awkward silence.

"Goodbye, Ryker," she finally said. She stepped toward him and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

He put his arms tightly around her.

"For what it's worth," he said, his chin resting on top of her head, "I do love you."

"I know," she said gently. "But sometimes, love just isn't enough." 

He paused for a moment. "Strange. I'm leaving you again, on the same day that I left you three years ago after our first festival together. Our only festival together."

"But this time, you're leaving on good terms." she pointed out. 

"Yes," he said. "Yes, I am." He breathed in, as if to breathe in her scent for one last time. "Take care of the seeds. Plant them and remember me. Don't forget me…"

"I won't." After all, it's hard for a girl to forget her first love. "But promise me something."

"Anything."

"Go back to the tribes. Find a nice girl and marry her. Don't waste any more time over me."

He stiffened immediately in response to her request.

"Ryker, I mean it. Don't waste any more of your life waiting for me. Knowing that you got past…our relationship and was able to move on will make me happy."

"I," he said after a long pause, "will try."

"Thank you," she said quietly.

He was silent for a moment, his gaze intent on her face. 

And then he stepped back, letting her go. He turned around with a soft sigh.

And he left.

She stared at his retreating back, wondering if she was making the right decision after all. 

"Why did you let him walk away?" 

Kaprice jumped when she heard Roald speak. He was staring at her with an inscrutable look on his face.

"He deserves more than I could give him," she said softly. "I would only be a burden, a curse."

"A burden and curse that he was willing to bear." 

"He doesn't deserve to. He deserves more," she said emphatically.

Roald didn't object again.

Ryker's leaving did make her sad. But she had spent three long years feeling that sadness. And now, it didn't hurt her as much as it had three years ago. She was ready to move on.

She only hoped that Ryker was as ready.

"Your protective circle wasn't up last night," she said after a long silence.

"No," Roald said.

"You knew Ryker was coming."

"Yes".

She didn't ask him how he had known. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

~*~*~*~

****

A.N.- _Exuent Ryker, stage left._

Poor ryker…everyone wave goodbye to him! *bye-bye!*

Now be a good person and leave me a review *smile*

~krizsta


	15. A Dangerous Daydream

****

Questions/Responses:

Olorin: I would like to answer you questions…but then I might end up revealing parts of the ending. Will it suffice to say that your questions will be answered later on, as the story unfolds?

****

Lady Knight of Kennan: The shamans for these tribes are different from the Bazhir tribe shamans. Active magic is forbidden, but the Sight (the only 'magic' that the shamans have) is not. They don't see the Sight as real magic. The tribes are afraid of the more blatant, 'you can see it in the works' magic (putting out candles, spells, incantations, etc.). In addition, the Sight is passed down hereditarily (is that a word), and since Kaprice is an orphan with no family, her Sight makes them uncomfortable. 

****

15. A Dangerous Daydream 

__

Kaprice

Roald was unusually quiet. Not that he was very talkative, but he was quieter than he usually was. His silence was distinctly uncomforting to her.

Finally, the silence got to her. She stood up and walked over to him. "Roald?" She placed a hand on his shoulder and kneeled over him to look at his face. "What's the matter?"

He glanced up at her, dark eyes brooding. He looked as if he wanted to speak, but then he just shook his head. "It's nothing."

She sat down beside him. "It's obviously _something_. Now tell me."

He turned his head away to stare off into the desert. "That young man," he started, "Ryker. He obviously cares about you very much."

She blinked at him, slightly surprised. "Is that what you've been brooding about all day? Ryker?"

Roald slowly turned his head so that he could look at her. 

And in his eyes she saw uncertainty. Pain. 

"Love is precious, Kaprice. You shouldn't just let it walk away."

She flinched away from him. "What are you saying? You want me to go?"

He shook his head emphatically. "No. No."

"Then?"

"Are you sure this is what you want to do? You can still go back. Ryker will take care of you."

Kaprice just shook her head. She took Roald's hand and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Roald, you think too much."

"I suppose that happens when you live in the desert for seventy years, not aging a day."

"I won't go, Roald. I won't go."

Roald leaned his head down over hers. "I was hoping you would say that."

~*~*~*~*~

__

Later the same day

Cold water cascaded over her head and Kaprice shrieked in surprise.

Roald, his black hair dripping water into his bright blue eyes, laughed aloud. In his hands was a now empty, dripping bucket. His breeches hung low on his waist, and he had a clean shirt tossed over his shoulder. Beads of water glittered on his smooth chest.

"Roald!" 

He gave her a disapproving look. "You should have been paying more attention. I shouldn't have been able to sneak up on you."

"Paying more attention?" she said incredulously. She slowly got to her feet, a handful of semi-wet sand in her fist. "I was giving you privacy for your bath!"

Roald just laughed again, and his eyes glinted wickedly.

Her eyes narrowed. "I'll get you for that," she said with a mock growl, stepping closer to him.

Roald smiled. "No you won't. But you can try."

But it was she who had the last laugh when she shoved her handful sand down his pants.

~*~*~*~

__

Night 

_I wonder what Tortall was like_…

Instead of sleeping, Kaprice lay in her bedroll daydreaming. She didn't want to sleep because she didn't want to face the Goddess again. 

_A place of knights, kings, queens. A place where magic was normal_.

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what Tortall might have looked like. 

_Green grass everywhere, monstrously tall trees. Flowers a plenty, instead of stretches of desert as far as the eye can see…_

~*~*~*~

Roald

Silver light edged between Roald's eyelids, and he opened his eyes.

And saw that Kaprice was the source of the silver glow. A soft silver light emanated from her body.

"Kaprice?"

Her eyes were closed and her body was motionless except for her chest which was rising and falling with each one of her breaths.

"Kaprice?" He put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle shake. "Kaprice?"

But she did not awake. And the silver light that came from her skin was growing brighter by each passing moment. 

He shook her again, harder this time. "Kaprice, please wake up." 

As she continued to lay still, he became more desperate. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into a sitting position. "Wake up. Kaprice, wake up."

The glow was so bright that he was now squinting. He finally just gave up trying to look at her and kept his eyes turned away as he continued to try to shake her awake. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!"

And he suddenly heard her speak a single word.

"Tortall."

And then he was blinded by a flashing silver light.

****

~*~*~*~*~

__

Beware: this short segment is not from any particular person's point of view and it does NOT take place in the desert

"What happened?"

Roald smiled in greeting at Shinko when she joined him in the hall. He placed a soft kiss on her cheek before grimly shaking his head.

"My father says that they haven't had too much luck. Daine and Numair will arrive here by tomorrow morning, to check the library one last time." He rubbed at his sleepy eyes wearily. "They won't find anything new," he said with resignation. "They've already tried several times."

"Well," Shinko said with patient hope, "maybe luck will be on their side this time." She put a concerned hand on Roald's elbow. "You should get some rest. It's late; you haven't been sleeping properly," she said gently.

Roald shook his head. "I can't. I have to help." He clenched his fists tightly at his side. "I'm going to wait for Numair and Daine to arrive--"

Shinko placed a firm hand on Roald's chest and gazed at him with a serious expression on her face. "They will not arrive for several hours. Rest is more important for you right now." Her voice was soft, but her tone was commanding.

Even as Roald shook his head again, Shinko led him down the hall towards his room. 

About halfway there, Roald suddenly let out a gasp and doubled over, one hand pressed against his chest where his heart lay. Pain shot through his heart, shocking his whole body from head to toe. 

"Roald!" 

Shinko anxiously tried to support Roald's body as he slid, unconscious, to the floor.

~*~*~*~*~

__

Kaprice

Kaprice would have slumped to the ground in exhaustion if it weren't for the arms around her waist. She just suddenly felt so…tired.

"Kaprice?"

She glanced up into Roald's concerned face. "What happened?" she asked groggily. It was a fight just to keep her eyes open.

Roald's face was troubled and serious. "I don't know. Why don't you tell me?"

She would have frowned if she had the energy to. "What do you mean?"

"Look around you," he simply said.

She tried to lift her head from his shoulder. "I …can't. I'm too sleepy." she said dazedly.

He moved as if to pick her up and she immediately protested, but even as she did she found herself leaning her weight upon him. "I'm so tired. What's wrong with me, Roald?" she mumbled with puzzlement. 

Roald gently pulled her down onto the ground. She was so tired that she hardly even realized that what she lay on was grass and not sand. 

"Rest, Kaprice. Go to sleep," Roald whispered into her ear. 

"Hmmm…" she curled up onto her side, hands tightly clutching her robe around her. Then she promptly fell asleep.

~*~*~*~

__

Roald

What…_what happened?_

Maybe he was just dreaming. Yeah, that could be it, considering how the strange the dreams with the gods had been.

But there were no gods here.

And no matter how many times he pinched himself, the trees didn't go away. Neither did the grass. The endless sands and the warm air of the desert night were gone. So was his oasis. 

And then he remembered the last word that Kaprice had whispered before the strange silver flash.

_Tortall_…

Was what he thinking possible? Could Kaprice have somehow transported them to Tortall? After all, what had the gods said? That she had the ability to change the past…

And what better way to change it than actually be in it yourself? 

He had not been quite certain what the gods had been talking about when they had told Kaprice that she could change the past. But he had been certain that they would be given some sort of warning, some sort of notice beforehand. 

He hadn't expected it to be like this.

And Kaprice most certainly hadn't done this on purpose; she hadn't even realized what she had done yet.

Kaprice…

His gaze fell tenderly to the sleeping figure. Her black hair was a great contrast compared to the green grass that it lay on. He saw her suddenly shiver; the air here was considerably cooler than the air of the desert. 

He shook his head. They would have to figure out what had happened in the morning. 

Roald quickly set about to put up a protective circle around them. That way they could rest without being disturbed. 

Finished, he pulled off his robe and settled down on the soft grass beside Kaprice. He then pulled his robe over himself and Kaprice, making sure to tuck it carefully around Kaprice silent form. Finally, he lay down on his side, spooning his form to Kaprice's.

Kaprice shifted in her sleep, snuggling back against his warm body, but did not wake.

Roald leaned up onto his elbow, gazing down intently at Kaprice's sleeping profile. He ran a finger through her long, silky black hair. 

It was a long while before Roald finally fell asleep. 

But if Roald had only paid more attention to the scenery around him…he might have found that the courtyard they were in was familiar. And if he had recognized the courtyard, he may have even been able to identify the castle that lay beyond, just barely visible through the branches of the flourishing trees.

****

~*~*~*~*~

A.N.- Wow. Ff.net has the strangest companies sponsoring it. Steroids? Gambling? And just yesterday while I was surfing through the stories, one of the pop up sites ended up being the homepage of a website that portrays scandalous 18 year olds holding their hands over the appropriate (hah!) places. 

They were like, "Subscribe and become a member who can access the archives that contain *insert big number here* pictures of beautiful young eighteen year olds!!!"

Nope, sorry, not interested.

Ad blocker is my new best friend…

Well anyway, (yeah, that was a very random rant) how was that chapter? It was on the longer side, yes? 

Oooohh….we're seeing some TP characters next chapter. Shocking, isn't it.

It will make me very happy if you review (you do want me happy right? Right? Hmm…maybe I shouldn't have even asked…)

~krizsta


	16. Invisible Man

****

FAQ Format:

Ad Blocker?

Ad blocker will be found at the top of the page, next to 'just in', 'directory', and 'columns'. click on it for more details.

****

This is getting confusing (there are just too many damn roalds!)…

Yeah, it really is. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep confusion down to a minimum, however.

****

What if Roald meets…Roald?

Now that would be a really confusing conversation to write. Good thing I don't write one. :)

****

So if Roald (the one from the desert) has gone back into the past with Kaprice, what happens to the ring? Is he still wearing it? If he's not, will he end up being ninety something years old and die?

Let's keep this as simple as possible: Roald will still be twenty two years old. He will not suddenly turn into an old geezer. That would be very bad for romance, don't you think?

****

But there were deserts in Tortall even before the Devastation!

Yep, indeed there was. And the part of Tortall that _was_ desert, will remain desert even after the Devastation is reverted. Reverting the Devastation will only change things back to the way they were before, not alter _all_ deserts into rich forest/prairie/etc. land. 

****

So Kaprice has a silver Gift?

Only the immortals and the gods have silver magic. Kaprice's power is silver only because her power is not from herself, it is from the gods.

****

And lastly, what about Shinko???

Shinko has not disappeared from my mind, this is not one of those alternate reality/universe fics (I think that is what they are called?) that change the story from the way the author has written them. Joren is still dead, alanna did not go to the convent, and kel did not go shang. Everything is as is. Shinko will be dealt with later (bad shinko, bad!). Alright, she won't really be 'dealt' with, but she will be making an appearance within ….chapter 18. Oh hey, did u know that daine and numair are going to be getting married in a book that is coming out sept. '03? (or maybe they're getting married in the sequel to that book). They're getting married because (DO NOT READ THE REST OF THIS IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO KNOW NOW AND GET IT SPOILED!) daine is pregnant. *gasp* something about losing her pregnancy charm during one of her shape changes. and the baby keeps changing within her stomach, they don't know whether it's female or male. One moment it's a girl, the next it's a boy, and in the next it's not even human. (which I think is just _creepy_). What if she ends up having her baby…and it's a…fish?? A very powerful fish. (all bow down to the mighty fish!) *shivers* 

****

16. Invisible Man 

A bird trilled from somewhere nearby. Kaprice opened her eyes. .

And gasped.

She was surrounded by trees that looked impossibly tall from her position. And she was laying on the softest grass she had ever known. There were patches of flowers scattered throughout the grass. 

_Odd…_

There was a warm presence at her back; she turned her head to see Roald sleeping there.

Roald's black hair lay mussed about his forehead. His lips were curved into a small smile as if he were having a pleasant dream.

Kaprice found a smile curving across her own lips as she looked at him. She couldn't resist; she leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto the tip of his nose. 

Roald felt her touch and awoke. His eyes smiled into hers..

"Good morning," he said.

She blinked in surprise. "Morning?"

"Well, yes." He smiled teasingly at her. "Did you think that it was still night?"

She sat up and glanced about herself again. Stared through Roald's protective circle at the colorful flowers, the soft green grass, the thick tree trunks. "But isn't this a dream?"

Roald's gaze turned serious. "No, it's not."

"But--"

Roald pressed his hand over her mouth to silence her. He glanced around intently, as if listening for something.

"Why doesn't the Dominion Jewel have any affect on Demon's Hill?" a soft female voice was inquiring.

Someone sighed in return. "The Dominion Jewel's power lays within nature. My guess is that it has no affect because Demon's Hill is entirely _unnatural_," a tired male voice said.

A tall, black haired man accompanied by smaller female came into sight through the line of trees. And trailing beside the young woman, there was a small, odd looking…reptile? It walked on its legs with an unusual grace that she had never seen before.

"What is that?" she whispered.

"That?" Roald smiled. "That's Kit."

"A kit?"

He chuckled. "No. That's her name. She is a dragon."

Her eyes widened. "Wow," she breathed.

The couple stopped, glancing around themselves suspiciously. Perhaps they had heard Roald laugh?

Kaprice stiffened, but Roald just shook his head. He squeezed her arm reassuringly. "Not to worry. They're friends."

The dragon suddenly let out a sharp whistle, and Roald's protective circle flickered.

The woman frowned. "Roald? Is that you?"

Kaprice started when she heard Roald's name. The woman knew Roald? Roald, in turn, seemed uncertain as to what to say.

"Whoever you are, why don't you come out now? We know you're there." the older man said.

"Roald?" the woman called again. "What are you doing out here? I thought the others said you were ill." She sounded confused.

Kaprice glanced at Roald tentatively. What was going on? How did that woman know Roald? And where was this place? Wherever they were, this was definitely no desert.

When there was no response, the tall man sighed. He stepped forward, one hand outstretched. Kaprice's eyes widened as she saw black power gather in the palm of the man's hand. And when he touched Roald's dome with his black magic, Roald's dome shattered, falling away and revealing Kaprice and Roald to the strangers.

"Numair, Daine--" Roald started to say.

"Who are you?" the man asked Kaprice pointedly, a suspicious look on his face.

Kaprice was busy staring at the man's hand, the hand that had held his black magic. 

"Numair, this is Kaprice--" Roald tried to say.

"Do I know you?" the woman asked, completely ignoring Roald. "You seem…oddly familiar." She then shook her head. "Never mind. What are you doing in the castle courtyard?"

"Castle courtyard?" Kaprice echoed.

Roald groaned, suddenly glancing around himself. "Gods, I'm such an idiot. Why didn't I recognize this place before?"

Kaprice turned to gaze at Roald uncertainly. "Roald…"

"Roald?" The woman repeated sharply. "Do you know Roald?" 

Roald glanced at the woman in surprise. "Of course she knows me, Daine. Why else would I be standing right here beside her?"

"Well?" the older man prompted. "Do you?" He gazed at Kaprice intently, not sparing Roald a glance.

Kaprice glanced around in confusion. "Roald, what is going on?"

The two strangers turned to glance at each other in surprise when they heard Kaprice's words. 

"Roald?" the man said inquiringly.

"Kit, is Roald here?" The woman turned to gaze at the dragon questioningly.

The dragon emitted another sharp whistle. She paused expectantly, and then turned to the woman and shook her small dragon head.

The strangers turned back to gaze at Kaprice.

Kaprice was suddenly hit with understanding. She turned to gaze at Roald with bewilderment. "They can't see you," she said slowly.

Kaprice gaze sudden fell to the medallion that hung off Roald's neck. It was glittering a soft, golden light.

Roald glanced down to see what she was staring at. He started to reach for the medallion with his right hand.

"Don't touch it." Kaprice's voice was sharp.

Roald's hand stopped, paused for a moment, and then fell down to his side. He shook his head, turning to the two strangers that he apparently knew.

"Daine. Numair. Look at me." He stepped toward them, standing in front of Kaprice.

But they didn't see him. Or hear him. They only saw and heard her. And her apparently one sided conversation had them bewildered.

"My name is Kaprice," Kaprice said softly. "Can you tell me where I am?"

The woman glanced at the man uncertainly before answering. "You're standing in the king's courtyard."

"Yes, but is this…is this Tortall?" Kaprice pressed.

The man stared at her contemplatively. "Yes, it is."

Kaprice glanced around herself, once more gazing at the green trees, green grass. _Tortall…_

Roald shook his head. "I don't understand. Why can't they see me?"

Kaprice just shook her head. She had questions for him, but now was definitely not the time to ask. These people already thought that she was crazy. 

She was in Tortall. She wasn't quite sure how, but she was. And she had a job to do. 

To reverse the Devastation…

For a moment, she was impacted with the enormity of her job. Change the outcome of the Devastation? Her? She felt as insignificant as a speck of dust.

What was she supposed to say? 'Oh, by the way, I've been sent here by the gods to save the world?' Or maybe, 'Can you tell me about the Devastation? I'm supposed to reverse it, so I need some background information?' 

A bitter laugh forced its way out of her throat.

"I'm here. I'll help you." Roald suddenly stood in front of her, looking at her with his steady blue eyes. "You aren't alone. I won't let you be."

She stared back at him, relief flooding her senses. She gave him a small nod before turning to the others. "Can you please take me to--" she paused, wondering what she should say next.

"King Jonathan." Roald prompted.

"--to King Jonathan? I would like to speak to him," she quickly finished.

The man gazed at her with sharp black eyes; the woman examined her carefully with her own blue-grey ones.

Then the tall man nodded. "Very well. Follow me this way."


	17. Entrance to the Castle

****

FAQ format:

If they couldn't see Roald, why was Daine calling his name?

She recognized his gift when his protective circle flickered because of Kit's whistle.

****

Where did I get my info about Daine/Numair?

Someone forwarded the info to me; TP had posted it on sheroes.net (it's either that, or sheroes.com). And the info I revealed last chapter is not what TP's book is about (the plot will be revolving around something else, but the events will occur at some point within the story). I haven't gone to sheroes myself, why don't you go and check it out? It's a site ran by TP and Meg Cabot (think author of the Princess Diaries). The word 'sheroes' is from heroes, but with a 'she' instead of 'he'. 

****

"THAT was unexpected. I half thought that you might actually do something truly despicable and have Shinko discover Roald and Kaprice"

Oooh…that would have turned this fic into a true soap opera. Luckily, having such an occurrence never crossed my mind. Although, now that I think of it, it would be a very interesting scene to write.

****

how are we gonna know which roald is which when u have them in the same sentence/paragraph?

I will make sure you know who's who. Have no fear.

****

Are you going to make Numair-unevil?

Eh? Did I make him evil last chapter? *goes back and checks* hmmm…. *is confused*

****

Why can't Roald take off the medallion?

Well, he could. Kaprice just told him not to touch it. We will learn more about the medallion a couple chapters from now.

****

Why don't you update everyday?

Well, I could go down the long list: school, school, school, school, school…

Even right now, I'm falling behind on my writing. I'm worried that I won't even be able to keep up with my every other day updating later. *sigh*

****

Can Roald still touch things?

More on this later.

****

On with the story…

17. Entrance to the Castle 

Kaprice was hastily pushed to the side and forgotten the moment the two strangers who were leading her stepped foot into the castle.

"Numair!" A dark haired man approached and practically flattened her against the wall. 

"Jonathan," Numair greeted grimly. "We received word just before we arrived. Something the matter with Roald?"

Kaprice blinked in surprised and frowned at hearing Roald's name. She turned back to Roald to give him a questioning look, but he just shrugged.

The man named Jonathan nodded. "Yes, something is definitely the matter. Last night, he collapsed while walking to his--" the man's words came to a stop when he noticed Kaprice's presence. "Who's this?" he asked as he turned to face her, eyeing her thick desert robe with curiosity.

Kaprice gasped and stepped back when she saw the man's face. Blue eyes that were uncannily similar to Roald's stared at her from under a head of messy black hair. 

"She says her name is Kaprice. We found her within a protective circle in the courtyard," Daine said, stepping in.

"In the courtyard?" Jonathan frowned. "What was she doing there?"

"We don't know," Daine said with a shrug. "But when Kit whistled, her protective circle flickered." 

"And?" Jonathan asked expectantly.

"Her protective circle was made from a Gift of the same blue that Roald has," Daine finished softly. 

At that, Jonathan turned to gaze sharply at Kaprice. "Are you responsible for what has happened to my son?" he demanded.

"Your son?" she repeated faintly.

"Roald. Are you responsible for what has happened to him?" the king asked her again.

"Roald…Roald is your son?"

The king looked at her as if she were daft. 

Kaprice turned to look at where Roald was standing; he had his gaze averted. Her eyes narrowed. "Roald of Conte is your son?" she asked again.

"Yes, Roald of Conte, first-born son of King Jonathan. You are in Tortall…why do you not know about the King and his heir?" Numair asked her gently. 

_Roald is a king's son…_

She didn't know what she wanted to do more: scream or cry. But then she shook herself, turning away from her feeling of betrayal and to the situation at hand.

"You ask me why I do not know about your king and his son. Well, that's because I don't live here," she said stiffly.

"Then where--" Daine began.

"I come from the future." Kaprice ignored everyone's look of surprise and disbelief and continued to speak. "The gods have sent me into the past to change it. I was sent with the job of reversing the Devastation. And I am at their command," she finished bitterly. 

"You were sent here from the …future?" Daine said, struggling with disbelief. 

"Yes, I come from seventy years after the Devastation."

"You keep referring to the Devastation." Numair looked at her curiously. "What exactly is this Devastation?"

Kaprice frowned, struggling to find a way to explain. "Something happened here. Something so disastrous that the world was covered with sand and turned into desert. I am here to keep that from happening."

"Desert? Tortall was turned into desert?" Jonathan asked with incredulity.

"Yes, along with the rest of the continent."

The others still looked skeptical and confused.

"It is said that the Devastation was caused by a mad mage." Kaprice added.

Numair sighed. "Demon's Hill."

Daine turned to look at him, a concerned look on her face. "Is she referring to that?"

"What else could it be?" 

Roald tried to talk to her during the short silence which followed Numair's question.

"Kaprice, please don't be--"

"What exactly is Demon's Hill?" Kaprice interrupted and asked Numair. Roald sighed, shaking his head. Then he turned and walked away, leaving her with the others. Watching him, Kaprice wasn't sure if she felt more sad or relieved.

"We aren't quite sure," Numair said in response to her question. "But it is made up of a pit located on top of a wide hill. Fire and smoke lives inside the pit, under the hill. There are times when the hill is calm and peaceful. And then there are times when the hill is angry and spits out liquid fire, burning everything it touches. It was created and is fueled by magic."

The gods sent her here to stop a fire-blowing mountain? Were they insane?

"How do we know you're telling us the truth?" King Jonathan suddenly spoke.

"Jonathan--" Numair started.

"Well, how do we? What if she really did have something to do with my son and is just making up this story to find a way to distract us and escape?" Jonathan said hotly.

"Jonathan, calm down. You're just upsetting yourself and the situation. You shouldn't--"

"Don't tell me what I should and shouldn't do!" Jonathan fired back. "You haven't seen the condition Roald's in!"

Silence.

Jonathan suddenly stepped back and shook his head. "Please accept my apologies, Numair. I don't know what's wrong with me. The situation of Demon's Hill and my son's sudden collapsing…" He put a weary hand to his forehead. "I've never felt so old and tired before." For a moment, Kaprice felt bad for him. He truly did look old and tired. 

"It's all right, Jon," Numair said with an easy nod. "I should have looked into Roald the moment Daine and I arrived. And you aren't the only one who feels old." He stepped up to Jonathan and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. "Come. Let's go check on Roald, shall we?"

"Kaprice, are you hungry? Have you had breakfast yet?" Daine asked, turning to her. When Kaprice shook her head, she quickly motioned for her to follow. "Come. I'll go make sure you get some breakfast. We could talk more afterwards."

Kaprice nodded and followed. "Sure."

Daine led her to the kitchen, where a table of food was laid out. 

"Pick up a plate and take your pick," Daine said with a smile.

Kaprice blinked. "There's so much food,' she breathed. She had never seen so much food at one time before, except at a festival. 

Daine smiled. "Well, most everybody has probably eaten by now. This is just the leftovers."

"That's a lot of leftovers." 

"It's all for good cause. The leftovers are always given away, whether it's to an orphanage or just to those who are hungry." Daine paused and looked back at her. "I have to go, there are some people I need to talk to. Will you be needing anything else?"

Kaprice eyed the 'leftovers'. "No, this is more than enough, thanks." 

But Daine hesitated by the door. 

"Yes?" Kaprice questioned. 

"What you said before, is it the truth?" Daine asked her, a troubled look on her face.

"I have no reason to lie," Kaprice said softly.

Daine nodded. "Yes, that's what I thought." She stepped through the doorway and softly closed the door.

Kaprice was nearly done with the food on her plate when Roald approached her. He walked right through the kitchen wall and stepped through the kitchen table to stop right in front of her plate. 

Kaprice had frozen the moment his foot appeared through the wall, a fork still clutched in front of her mouth. 

"How did you--how?"

Roald shrugged. "It comes along with the gift of not being seen or heard. But that's not why I've come," he said.

"Oh?' she said coolly. She had her gaze turned away, but not completely away. Refusing to gaze up into his eyes, she kept her gaze on the golden medallion that hung on his neck. "Why have you come then?"

He bent over, forcing her eyes to meet his. She glared at him. 

"We need to talk," he said steadily.

She just shook her head. "Roald," she said, "I really don't feel like talking to you right now."

He smoothly crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, that's just too bad. Because I'm not leaving you alone until you do."

****

A.N.- When I first finished this chapter, there was something about the first draft that annoyed me. After further readings I figured out what it was: the ending. 

It had gone like this:

__

He bent over, forcing her eyes to meet his. She glared at him.

"We need to talk," he said steadily.

"About what?" she said through clenched teeth.

"Us."

Very cliché, isn't it? That's what I thought when I was rereading it. The 'us' talk. Aaaahhh, horrid.

I have to remember to stay away from those clichés, they have the ability to ruin even the best people's works.

Yes, I am aware that I have asked this before, but I will ask again: what would you think if thorn/evin were to enter this story now? Not as main characters, of course, but as characters of this fic nonetheless. Good idea? Bad idea? Or perhaps you have no idea what the hell I'm talking about and, as a result, don't care (thorn is the main character from my first fic, 'Bloody Thorns'; if you want to find out more about that fic, check out my profile for a summary and a very short clip from the fic).

~krizsta


	18. A King's Son

****

Questions:

What about the _real_ Roald? Is he okay?

Oh, don't worry about him. He'll be just fine. *smile*

****

How many chapters until the end?

Eh….I'm not quite sure yet. But definitely more than 28. *pauses to think about it* Yes, definitely more than 28. 

****

Is Demon's Hill a volcano?

Indeed, yes it is. When I was first writing/figuring out this fic, I knew it had to be about a girl who went back in time to keep the 'end of the world as we know it' from happening. But I still didn't have an idea for why and how the world ended. I was struck with the idea of having a volcano explode and cover the world while reading (heh) a very dull, boring, long, verbose book for AP biology class, known as "The Diversity of Life." (alright, so it wasn't _that_ bad, especially compared to the book "This is Biology, the science of the living world", but it was still bad and I didn't finish reading either of the books: I gave up barely a quarter of a way through) But anyway, in the "Diversity of Life" book, I had just finished reading a chapter on how an entire island (and the ocean and islands that were a few miles away) were covered with lava/ash from a volcanic explosion. And then I thought to myself, 'why not have something like that happen in Tortall? But instead, have it fueled by magic and then cover the continent with desert sand when it exploded…'

****

What _is _**a cliché?**

It is an overly common/used phrase. Or in my case, an overly used situation. It's sorta similar to the Mary Sues that are so hated around here. 

Cliches are phrases/words/situations that are used so often that people become sick of hearing them. "her eyes were as blue as the summer sky" or "she sang as sweet as a nightingale" or "it was so dark that I couldn't see the nose on my face" (Hah! I caught myself writing the last one in one of my writings for school. Bad, bad!)

Avoid cliches when writing as much as possible. Be creative: think of your own ways to describe things. Writing in cliches is a sure sign of an amateur.

Someone in the background: hey…but aren't we all amateurs here?

Krizsta: Shhh! Don't interrupt!

Well anyway, "that's all folks!" (haha, cliché!)

Now on with the story…

****

18. A King's Son 

"Kaprice," Roald said softly, "why are you mad at me?"

She stared, no, _glared_ at him. But then it became too painful to look into his eyes, and so she looked away.

"Kaprice." His hand lifted, as if to touch her cheek.

Kaprice jumped back, upsetting her chair. "Don't touch me," she said harshly.

"You didn't mind my touch before," Roald said softly.

"That was _before_ I knew you were a king's son," she bit out.

He frowned. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You never told me you were a _prince_."

"I didn't think it mattered. That was in the past, it had no affect on who and what I was in the desert."

"It does matter," she objected. "It matters to me."

"But why?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

She shook her head. "Forget it. Forget I said anything. It's not important." The sudden rush of resentful anger she had felt for him was gone, replaced by undeniable sadness.

Roald may have been able to reach through walls and tables, but he wasn't able to physically reach through her: he put his hand on her elbow and his grip was as real as the ground she stood on. 

"Don't do that, Kaprice. Don't hide from me," he said, his tone tender. "My being a prince obviously angered you. Tell me why."

She shook her head.

"Kaprice."

When she noticed that her eyes had filled with the slightest of tears, she cursed herself silently. Gods, she was such a fool.

"Kaprice?"

"Ryker," she finally said.

"What about him?" he asked. When she didn't say anything, he spoke again. "Damn it, if he hurt you--"

"No, no, no," she protested. "It was nothing like that. He would never hurt my physically," she said with a shaky laugh.

"Then what is it?" he asked, calm again.

"Ryker is a chieftain's son," she said hesitantly. "I suppose by Tortall's standards, that would make him comparable to a prince. Or at least a high noble."

He stared at her, struggling to comprehend.

"Ryker is a chieftain's son. While I…I'm nobody," she said.

Roald shook his head. "That's not true--"

"Yes, it is," she said, shaking her head. "I was too…low in status for Ryker. I wasn't good enough for him."

"Kaprice--"

"I gave Ryker up because he is a chieftain's son," she interrupted. "But then I met you. And I thought…"

"Thought what?" he asked when she didn't continue.

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Just as Ryker is a chieftain's son, you are a king's. And I am not good enough for either." The last sentence was said with bitter anger.

"But you," he said slowly, "were more than good enough for The Wanderer."

She turned away.

"Kaprice, I'm not a prince any longer. The Devastation took that from me. There are two Roalds here. And only one is a prince." He put his hands on her shoulders. "Look at me, Kaprice. These people can't even see or hear me. How can I be a prince to them?"

She shook her head and shrugged warily. 

"If we were still out in the desert, would my past have mattered?" he asked her.

She thought about it. "Probably not," she admitted. "But…"

Roald wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. "Don't worry. No one here will tell us that we cannot be together because I am a prince." He pulled back to look down at her for a moment. "Unless…you don't want us to be together?"

She held up her hands in a vulnerable manner. "I …don't know."

He blinked, hurt by her uncertainty. "Very well. I understand," he said quietly.

She sighed. "Is there anything else about your past self that I should know about? So that I don't become so surprised again?"

He frowned. "Actually, there is."

"Oh?" She waited.

"Well, when I was still a prince before the Devastation, I was marrie--"

"Kaprice?"

Kaprice and Roald jumped away from one another in surprise. Roald silently backed into a wall, disappearing through the other side and leaving her alone with Daine.

Daine frowned when she spotted Kaprice's fallen chair. Kaprice flushed and quickly set it to rights again.

"Was there a problem?" Daine asked, puzzled.

Kaprice quickly shook her head. "No, no problem."

Daine looked as if she wanted to question her further, but then she shrugged. "Are you done? King Jonathan wants to talk to you."

Kaprice looked down at her plate. "Yes, I'm done." She no longer felt hungry.

"All right, follow me and--"

"Wait."

"Yes?"

"Uhm, earlier while you and," she paused, trying to remember the tall man's name, "Numair were speaking with the king, he said that Roald was ill. Has something happened to Roald? Can you please tell me…?" she asked Daine hesitantly.

Daine glanced at her skeptically. "Why do you want to know?"

"I just find myself curious," she said rather lamely.

Daine stared at her for a moment. "You know, you remind me of someone…"

Kaprice blinked with surprise. "What?"

Daine shrugged. "You remind me of someone, but I can't remember who. Nevermind, forget that." Daine shook her head. :"King Jonathan says that Roald just collapsed while walking to his room last night. And since then, he's remained in an unwaking sleep."

"What's wrong with him?"

"We aren't sure. Numair doesn't think it has anything to do with magic, but Roald is quite physically fit. There's no reason for him to collapse and not wake up hours later, even if he was exhausted," Daine finished worriedly.

Kaprice had the sinking feeling that this incident had something to do with her and The Wanderer's entrance into Tortall.

"Can I see him?"

"What?" Daine asked, startled.

"Before you take me to the king, can I see Roald? Just for a moment, I won't do anything," Kaprice said.

Daine watched her carefully. "Kaprice," she started softly, "do you know Roald?"

"No." Kaprice only knew the Roald from the desert, not the one that lay unconscious in the castle. But then, that was getting technical…

Daine gave her a doubtful look. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she answered. 

"All right. I'll take you to see Roald. But it'll have to be real quick, since the king is expecting us."

"That's fine," Kaprice assured her.

Daine quickly led her through the maze of hallways and rooms. She stopped before one and turned to Kaprice, a finger pressed to her lips. "Quiet, now. Shinko is still asleep."

_Shinko_? But Kaprice kept her mouth shut and silently entered the room after Daine.

The large room was bright with early morning sunlight. But Kaprice didn't notice it, nor did she notice the rich furnishings that decorated the rooms.

Her gaze immediately fell on Roald.

_He looks the exact same…_

Well, of course. He wasn't able to age after the Devastation. But she had still expected there to be _some_ differences between the Roald she knew and the Roald that lay here.

She was immediately able to observe that this Roald was not sleeping normal sleep. His breathing was too slow, and his eyelids didn't flicker in the least. 

Beside the bed, a young woman sat sideways in a chair. Her head was leaned back against the chair and her eyes were closed with normal sleep. Her long, glossy black hair fell across her cheek like a curtain. She was quite lovely in face.

But the thing that Kaprice noticed most about the girl was her hand. The girl's hand was tightly wrapped around one of Roald's own. 

_Who's_ --

"That's Princess Shinkokami," Roald said, coming in out of nowhere. He turned his head to gaze at Kaprice. "My wife. I was about to tell you about her, but Daine interrupted us--"

"Kaprice?" Daine suddenly whispered. "We should go now."

Kaprice nodded and followed Daine outside. Roald walked beside her. Neither tried to speak.

Daine led them to another room. She stopped in front of the door to knock: two quick, sharp raps, followed by two more that were widely spaced out. 

The door open, and Kaprice was quickly ushered inside. Roald was just barely able to enter before the door closed. As soon as the door shut, a black end of string-like magic reached across the door and linked itself to another end of black magic string that waited from the other side of the door.

"What's _that_?" Kaprice asked with shock.

"It's to keep outsiders from listening to the conversation," Numair said. He pointed to the way the string ran across all four walls of the room.

King Jonathan was facing one of the walls, and he seemed to be arguing with himself.

"How do we know we can trust her?" he demanded.

"Well, how do we know we _can't_ trust her?" a female voice retorted back. "Let me see her."

On a closer look, Kaprice realized that King Jonathan wasn't just looking at a wall: he was looking into a mirror. And when he stepped aside, Kaprice saw that there was someone in the mirror.

Someone who was definitely not King Jonathan.

The woman had bright red hair, and even brighter purple eyes. And in the background behind the woman, there were trees and other people.

The woman's uncanny purple eyes widened when she spotted Kaprice. "Goddess…" the woman murmured with surprise.

"That's it!" Daine suddenly spoke. She turned to look at Kaprice. "The Great Mother Goddess. You remind me of…you look just like…" her voice faded into silence when she saw Kaprice's harsh look.

Everyone in the room turned to stare at her.

"My name is Kaprice," she said coolly. "And don't you dare compare me to that woman."

****

A.N.- here's a random question for you: which do you prefer? Ninjas or pirates? And why?

Oh, and don't forget to tell me what you thought of my chapter. Thanks! *smile*

~krizsta


	19. A Ring and A Medallion

****

Er…whoops? When I asked people if they preferred pirates or ninjas last chapter, some people thought that that meant that I was going to have ninjas/pirates in this fic. I'm not. Although I am considering them for a different fic, they will not be entering this one. 

So what was the final tally? Even though most people thought that pirates would fit better in the fic, people liked ninjas more. Now for a question:

What's with the mirror thing? Why was Alanna in there?

Oh, don't let that mirror thing throw you off. It's just a communication device: they talk to one another and keep each other updated through the mirror, sorta like a telephone (except that they could actually see one another).

****

19. A Ring and a Medallion 

Kaprice stared at the seeds that lay in the palm of her hand. 

Even now, just looking at the seeds, she was able to imagine the beautiful smell that the flowers of these seeds would produce. Staring at the seeds, she almost wished she was back in the desert. 

Almost.

The wind suddenly picked up, pulling at her hair. She lifted a hand and tossed the handful of seeds up into the air, letting the wind carry the seeds away. She watched silently as the wind scattered Ryker's last gift to her into the courtyard, the courtyard in which she and Roald had first arrived. 

She still had about half of the precious seeds left; they were tucked, still in their bag, into one of her robe's pockets. 

She heard Roald come up to her from behind.

"It's strange being here," she murmured. "It's so different from the desert."

After the awkward moment in which she had told the others not to compare her to the Goddess, the woman in the mirror had demanded that Kaprice be brought to her. No one had been able to object. On Numair and Daine's way back to Demon's hill, they would bring Kaprice back with them. They were going to leave soon; even now Numair and Daine were preparing for the journey.

"Are you happy? To be back home where you belong?" she asked Roald curiously.

Roald leaned against the tree she stood underneath and watched her carefully. "Yes. It was wonderful to see my family again," he said to her quietly.

"You're lucky: you actually have a family."

He started toward her, but she stepped away.

"I wish…" he began.

"You wish what? That things were different?" she asked dryly. "I used to wish that, but things always became worse. I mean, look at me, all I wanted was to be normal. Instead, the gods decide that I need to reverse the Devastation."

She glanced up at Roald helplessly. "Roald, how am I supposed to do that?" She shook her head warily. "They should have chosen someone else."

"Is that what you think?" he asked her softly.

"Definitely," she said with a nod.

"That's strange," he said lightly. "I think they've chosen the perfect person for the job."

She just laughed bitterly. "Thanks for trying to boost my confidence level, Roald, but--"

"Is that what you think I was doing?"

She glanced away. 

"Kaprice, I've known you only for a short time. But in that short time period, I've come to learn…you are amazing."

"That's not a very common view."

"No matter. It's the one that I have. If anyone can reverse the Devastation," Roald said, coming around to face her, "it's you." He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Look at you. You've been through so much. But you've been able to retain strength and wisdom, something few would have been able to do when placed in your cruel situation." He smiled. "Standing beside you makes me feel weak and insignificant."

She wasn't quite sure what to say to that. So she changed the subject. "Are you horribly disappointed that the others can't see you?"

He took a moment to contemplate her question. "I am disappointed," he admitted, "but at the same time, I'm glad."

"Why?" she asked him curiously.

"Things are different now. _I_ am different." He gave her an uncertain look. "What will they think of me now?"

"They will love you. As they always have."

Roald shook his head, running an agitated hand through his black hair. Something golden caught her eye.

She held out a hand. "Give me your hand," she commanded.

He glanced at her, startled. He started to give her his hand, but she shook her head.

"Not that one. _That_ one," she said, pointing to the one that bore the ring.

He gave it to her, and she stared down at the ring he wore, eyes narrowed. Yellow power still crackled over the black stone that lay in the center, but somehow, the crackles of power seemed much weaker than they had been before.

"Try taking it off."

He did. And he gasped when it smoothly slid off his ring finger.

They stared at it.

"It came off," Roald said with wonder. "What does this mean?"

Kaprice closed her eyes. A familiar cold shiver ran down her back. 

There were strange times in her life when she just _knew_ things. And each time it happened, it was accompanied by the cold shiver.

"Put it back on."

Roald gazed at her with disbelief. "What?"

Kaprice opened her eyes to give him a regretful look. "I don't know why and I don't know how…but we're going to need it," she said.

"You want me to put it back on?" he said with a slightly strained voice.

She gave him a sad look. "No, I don't want you to. But it's necessary. That ring is going to help us reverse the Devastation."

He stared down at the ring in the palm of his hand, an obvious look of hate, disgust, and pain on his face. And it hurt her to see Roald's face that way.

She started toward him. "Roald, I'll wear it if you don't want to."

His fist closed around it and he immediately stepped out of reach. "No." His eyes were dark. "No, that's not necessary. I'll wear it."

"Are you sure?"

He looked at the ring hesitantly.

"You don't need to be heroic for me, Roald. I like you the way you are." She held out her hand. "It doesn't matter; I'm willing to wear it."

Roald grimly slid the ring on his finger. He then stared at his hand for a long moment.

Kaprice delicately covered his hand with hers. She waited until he met her eyes.

"Now I'm the insignificant one."

He shook his head. "Kaprice, I --"

She was immediately able to sense what he was trying to say and interrupted him. "Hush, Roald. Don't say anything that you'll regret later." 

He tried to speak again but she beat him to it. "Let's not forget that you're married."

"That was seventy years ago."

"No, it's now."

"_Seventy_ years ago," he said again. "Kaprice, I've lived in the desert for seventy years by myself. Do you think that I'm the same person I was before the Devastation?"

She gave a half-hearted shrug.

"I've changed. I'm not the same person and I can't just go back to the way I was." His gaze was steady upon her face. "I will not deny it: I did love Shinko. But that was decades ago for me, and I can't just go back to loving Shinko now. Not after meeting you."

Kaprice shook her head. "This is getting so complicated," she said with a sigh.

Roald looked hurt. "Do I mean so little to you?"

"If you did, then this situation wouldn't be so complicated."

Roald gently pulled her into his arms, settling his arms tightly around her waist.

She sighed again, resting her head against his shoulder. Her gaze fell upon his medallion.

"I wonder what that does," she said curiously.

Roald grabbed the medallion, lifting it up to the sunlight. "Who knows," he said.

"Lady Kaprice?" A servant girl entered the courtyard. "Lady Daine wishes to tell you that they are ready to go -- _Prince Roald_?"

Kaprice and Roald froze, eyes wide with surprise.

"You can see me?" Roald said with shock.

A cold shiver ran down Kaprice's back. "Put the medallion down," she hissed in his ear. He promptly dropped it from his grasp, and it settled back to its original spot, hanging off his neck. 

The servant girl's eyes became wider. "Hey, where'd he go?"

"Who?" Kaprice asked lightly.

The girl's eyes clouded over with confusion. "Prince Roald. I thought I saw him here-"

"Oh, that," Kaprice said airily. "That's just an illusion I've been practicing. Did it work?" 

"But--"

"So what did Daine want to tell me?"

The girl frowned, but did not insist on further questioning what she had seen. "She and Master Numair are ready to leave. They wish for you to meet them in the stables."

Kaprice nodded. "I'll do that."

She waited until the girl left before turning to Roald.

They both stared at the medallion that hung from his neck.

"Well," Roald said slowly, "I guess that answers _that_ question."

****

~*~*~*~

A.N.- the daily conversation between Krizsta and her laptop:

__

Laptop: *message pops up* An error has occurred…

__

Krizsta: What?! Die! *click*

__

Laptop: *message pops up* An error has occurred…

__

Krizsta: …again?! *growls while clicking CLOSE WINDOW* Die…

__

Laptop: *message pops up* An error has occurred…

__

Krizsta: Die, b*stard, die! *click*

__

Laptop: *message pops up* An error has occurred…

__

Krizsta *click click click click click*

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Laptop: *message pops up* An error has occurred… (x5)

__

Krizsta: *gives up and presses Ctrl + Alt + Delete twice*

__

Laptop: *blinks and then starts to restart*

__

Krizsta: Hah! I win…

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Laptop: *window pops up* Improper shutdown detected. Wait while disk is scanned…

__

Krizsta: …or not. *is forced to wait several long minutes while the computer slowly scans itself for errors*

Final Score: 

Computer: 1

Krizsta: 0

__

Krizsta: This war is far from over…


	20. Interrupted Declarations

****

So I'm not the only one who talks/curses at my computer, eh? Good to know I'm not the only in the universe…

Just to cut any confusion in half:

Medallion: will allow Roald to become visible if he holds it. 

****

Ring: …uhm…the ring's purpose hasn't been revealed yet. 

****

Is Ozorne the bad guy?

Nope.

****

Will there be more fluffyness?

*laughs* sure, why not.

****

Would Kaprice have been able to wear the ring if Roald hadn't wanted to?

*thinks about it* hmm…probably not. She would have been able to wear it for awhile, but because of future events that I cannot reveal at this time, the ring would have returned back to Roald anyway.

****

20. Interrupted Declarations 

Daine and Numair couldn't figure out why Kaprice's horse was moving so slowly. And according to Daine, the horse couldn't figure it out either.

"You don't look that heavy," Daine said, puzzled.

"Perhaps appearances are deceiving," Kaprice said lightly as Roald laughed from behind her.

Daine, Numair, and the horse didn't know that Roald was riding on the same horse behind her.

Although Roald could reach through inanimate objects, he couldn't do the same with living things. Which was good since if it were otherwise, he would have walked the entire way to Demon's Hill.

"Luckily, we'll still get there before nightfall," Numair said quietly.

"What happens at nightfall?"

Daine and Numair glanced at one another. "At nightfall, the fire specters awaken."

Kaprice felt Roald become tense behind her. "Fire specters?" she prompted.

"Wraith-like men who climb out of the pit of Demon's Hill every night, intent on destroying everything they come across."

"What's life like where you come from, Kaprice?" Daine asked her, changing the subject.

"Well, people live in tribes in the desert--"

"Like the Bazhir?"

"Like the what?" Kaprice said, puzzled.

Daine shook her head. "Nevermind. Please continue."

"Magic is forbidden by the tribes. The shamans' magic is nothing compared to the magic that you have," Kaprice said.

"Why was magic forbidden?"

"People fear what they don't know, and people hate what they fear. Legends say that the Devastation was caused by a mage. Because of that, the tribes have come to fear magic. The Devastation virtually wiped out all those who had the Gift, so there was none left who could defend their magic. Not that they could have anyway. The tribes are too prejudiced against magic."

"But you have magic," Numair pointed out quietly.

"Unfortunately," she agreed. Roald rested his head on her shoulder and gave her a comforting squeeze.

"Well, you don't have to worry about prejudice against magic here. If what you tell us is the truth, then we welcome you with open arms," Daine said with a smile. 

Numair nodded in agreement. "You will be welcome here," he seconded.

"The others will love you," Roald said into her ear. "Without a doubt."

She smiled her thanks at Daine and Numair, but didn't share Roald's certainty. 

These people were kind, but they still didn't know her. And once they did, what would they think?

Kaprice gave a silent sigh. _Once a freak, always a freak._

~*~*~*~

"We're here."

Kaprice glanced up when she heard Roald speak. She reined in her horse, remaining at the edge of the forest encampment while Daine and Numair continued forward.

"Daine. Numair. Welcome back," a tired female voice said.

Daine grimaced as she got off her horse. "Thank you, Kel. I only wish I could say that I was happy to be here."

"Don't we all," a new male voice responded.

"Dom," Numair said, nodding in greeting. "Where's Alanna?"

"She and some of the other mages have trudged up Demon's Hill to examine the pit again."

"It's Dom and Kel," she heard Roald say.

She turned her head over her shoulder to glance at him. "Who are they?"

Roald smiled. "They're old friends."

"Where's Roald? Isn't he supposed to be here with you?" Dom asked.

"Yes, I thought he said he wanted to come back with you?" Kel agreed.

Daine shook her head. "He couldn't. Something has happened."

"What?"

"We don't know yet. But he collapsed on the way to his room last night."

"Is he going to be all right?" Kel asked with a concerned frown.

Daine sighed. "Hopefully."

"That's not a very reassuring answer," Dom said dryly.

For a moment, Kaprice sat watching the scene, feeling completely envious.

_I wish I had friends like that…_

"I love you."

Kaprice jerked in surprise. "What?"

Roald smiled a shy, boyish smile. He leaned forward to press a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. Then he leaned back and abruptly got off the horse.

He turned and smiled knowingly up at her. "Well, are you going to stay up there all day?"

"I'm sorry, Roald. I just thought I heard you say…" she paused. "Forget it. I'm probably just hearing things." 

"Oh? What sorts of things?" he said teasingly as he helped her get off the horse.

She flushed, shaking her head. "Foolish things."

He raised an eyebrow. "My loving you is foolish?"

"Wait…then you really did say it?" she said questioningly.

He pretended to think about it. "I don't know, did I?"

He laughed when she punched him lightly in the arm. "All right, all right. I did say it."

"Really?" she said wonderingly.

He sighed. "Woman, how many times do I have to tell you? Yes, I did say. Yes, I really mean it. Yes, I do love you."

She smiled a brilliant smile. "Good." 

His eyes narrowed immediately. "Good?"

"Yes."

"That's all you have to say?" he protested.

"Is there anything else I should say?" It was her turn to tease him this time.

He caught her in his arms and gave her a tight squeeze. "Well, I could think of a few things."

"Really? Like what?"

He growled into her ear.

She laughed. "All right, I give. I love--"

A cold shiver ran down her back and the smile on her face disappeared.

Roald noticed the change immediately. "What's the matter?" The teasing tone was gone, replaced completely by a more serious one.

Kaprice shook her head wordlessly, stepping away from Roald and glancing around. Numair had gone somewhere, but Daine still stood talking to Kel and Dom.

Another cold shiver skimmed down her spine.

Kaprice suddenly found herself rushing up to Dom.

"What did you just say?" she demanded urgently.

He glanced at her in surprise, blue eyes wide. "Excuse me?"

Daine frowned. "Kaprice, is something wrong--"

"What did you just say?" Kaprice demanded again. 

"I said, 'excuse--"

"Before that!" Kaprice said with frustration. 

"He said that Alanna and the other mages are on Demon's Hill, trying to stifle the fire with their magic," Kel answered.

_Oh no…_

Kaprice glanced around. "Where is it? Where's Demon's Hill?" Even as she asked, she spotted it. A distance away, there was a brown, barren upsloping hill. And on top, Kaprice was able to make out several standing figures.

"We have to stop them!"

Kaprice started to run, rushing through the forest for the barren hill. 

Roald immediately followed. "What's happening--"

Roald cut off his words when he noticed that Kaprice suddenly started to glimmer an undeniable silver. He narrowed his eyes and immediately reached out, putting a hand on her elbow. "Not without me you don't!"

Kaprice wasn't quite sure what was happening. One moment, she was still a good distance away from Demon's Hill, just breaking out of the forest. Then in the next moment…she was standing right on top of Demon's Hill.

"Woah!"

She suddenly noticed that Roald was standing beside her; she frowned, puzzled.

"Roald, what happened?" she asked him uncertainly.

Roald looked a bit shaky himself. "You used your powers again."

She wanted to question him further, but instead she turned her focus onto the mages. They were clustered around a large pit in the ground. Immense waves of heat rose from the inside the pit; it was a good thing she was used to heat from living in the desert.

She suddenly realized that she recognized one of the mages: it was the red-haired woman that had been in the mirror. 

"Lady Alanna! Please, you have to stop!"

"She can't hear you," Roald realized. "She and the others are too focused on the magic!"

The all mages held their hands in front of them, and from their hands, their individually colored Gifts flowed into the opening pit. Kaprice noticed that interwoven between everyone's individually colored Gift, someone's purple Gift flowed prominently. With further examination, she noticed that the purple Gift came from Alanna's hands.

_Her gift is the one that's holding the rest together_, Kaprice realized.

Without any more thought, Kaprice threw herself at the small, red-haired woman. They both tumbled, rolling on the ground.

As she had thought, the circle of magic broke. But Kaprice also made one miscalculation: in her urgency, she hadn't taken into account what may happen once Kaprice tackled Lady Alanna. 

Kaprice and Alanna, a loose tangle of legs and arms, rolled dangerously close to the edge of the pit. 

"Kaprice!" Roald immediately rushed toward her, grabbing her arm and then one of Alanna's.

They stopped rolling just inches away from the edge. The scorching heat that emanated from the opening made Kaprice's eyes water and prickle with painful tears.

"Gods, that was close."

But Roald spoke too soon.

As if the open pit sensed their closeness, it suddenly gurgled and spit out a glob of liquid fire. Kaprice managed to pull herself away, but Lady Alanna, still groggy from using her magic, wasn't able too. And Kaprice couldn't pull her away in time.

Some of the liquid fire splattered onto Alanna's ankle, and she gave a sudden cry of pain.

The fire easily burnt through Alanna's pant leg, settling itself onto the skin which immediately reddened and started to blister.

One of the other mages pulled Alanna away from the edge while she littered the air with curses. Once she was safe, they all turned to look at Kaprice.

And none of them looked too friendly.


	21. An Explanation

Aie! Chapter 21 already? What is the world coming to…

****

Why doesn't Roald just throw the ring into the volcano?

Even if he did, the original copy is still out there. 

****

Ryker! Ryker! (Yes, I know. That wasn't quite a question)

I seem to have stumbled on a few more Ryker fans. *smile* is it comforting to say that Ryker still has an important part left in the fic? He just won't come up until later. 

****

Oh no! Will Alanna eat Kaprice?

*laughs* I hope not. That would be the ending of my story. 

****

21. An Explanation 

Kaprice couldn't think. The noise in the tent was so horrendously loud; she didn't know how the others could bear it. She and Roald stood in the midst of a rather loud meeting of knights, mages, and officers of the army.

"--she almost killed Alanna!" 

"And she could have killed any of the other mages!"

"But she didn't! She didn't kill anybody!"

"Only because we got lucky!"

"Don't be a gullible fool; we can't trust her!"

Kaprice sighed, her head on her hands. Roald stood tensely beside her, his hand tightly on her shoulder.

_I wish I was outside_…

The world flashed blindingly silver. And when Kaprice could see again, she indeed found herself and Roald standing outside.

_Uh-oh…_

Roald sighed. "You did it again."

She gave him a helpless look of apology. "I didn't mean--"

"I know. But you will have to try to convince that to the others."

Cries of shock and fear arose from the tent they were standing in front of. And in the next few moments, everyone who had been inside the tent rushed out.

And the noise the crowd bought with them almost made her wish she was back inside the tent again.

"_Enough!"_

The command came from a tall man in armor. Most immediately obeyed, falling into silence. Those who continued to talk received a baleful glare.

When it was silent, the man turned to Kaprice. "Explain yourself, lady. Why do you insist on these petty magic tricks?"

Kaprice fought the flush that spread across her cheeks. "Please accept my apology. I did not mean to… It was just so loud inside the tent; I wanted to be outside where it was a tad quieter."

He raised an amused eyebrow. "We were too loud for you?"

Kaprice shrugged. "People are not so loud where I come from. The only time you hear such noise is when all the tribal women are squabbling over the same young man." Her tone of voice made it explicit that her opinion of these squabbling young women was not very high.

A lean, blonde man with glittering blue eyes laughed, and Alanna let out a small chuckle.

"She nearly killed you, if in fact you forgot." someone reminded Alanna.

Alanna winced, glancing down at her damaged ankle. "No, I didn't forget." She turned to Kaprice. "Care to explain just what you were doing?"

"I…I had to stop you."

"Oh? And why's that?"

"You were aiding the fire, feeding it your power," Kaprice said quietly.

"Oh?" Alanna said again, her face unreadable. "And how would you know this?"

She looked the lady squarely in the eye. "I just do."

That caused quite a rumble among the others.

"You saw for yourself Kaprice's power," Numair said, his voice only loud enough to be heard over the others. "No ordinary mortal can have a silver Gift. She has the hands of a god, if not more than one, on her."

"Yes, but which god? What if she was sent here by the god of chaos?"

The voice that spoke was so unfriendly that Kaprice had to fight back a flinch.

"Why would the god of chaos send _her_? Someone who looks just like the Great Mother Goddess?" Alanna pointed out.

"It could be a trick to lure us in."

The argument continued; Kaprice sighed, giving Roald a side-long glance. "And Daine and Numair said that I would be welcome here," she said sardonically.

Roald, who had been watching the on-going conversation with an intense gaze, turned to look at Kaprice. "You will be. They just need to know that they can trust you, that's all."

Kaprice shook her head. "After that mistake with Alanna, how could any of them trust me?" 

The grip on her shoulder tightened. "I will help."

She turned to glance at him, startled. "What?" She realized that she had spoken too loudly: Lady Alanna turned to gaze at her confusedly.

"I was just saying--" Alanna began.

But Kaprice was not paying attention to Alanna. She was busy staring at Roald.

"Roald, no--"

Roald reached up and determinedly grasped his medallion in his hand.

Gasps echoed throughout the crowd.

"_Roald?_" Alanna said, in shock.

Roald gave the woman a grim smile. "Hello, Alanna."

"What are you…what are you doing here?" she gasped out. "I thought you were sick? Back in Corus?"

"I am," Roald said with a nod.

"Roald," Kaprice hissed quietly, "what are you doing?"

"Helping you, of course."

Of course.

He turned back to Alanna. "Everything Kaprice has told you is true. She has come from the future to help."

"And how would you know this?" someone sputtered.

"Well, I've come from the future too."

Kaprice put her head in her hands as the others burst out with questions and exclamations of shock and disbelief. This was not going well.

"An illusion. He has to be an illusion!" someone cried.

Numair shook his head. "Not an illusion. Or a simulacrum either. He is real. Without a doubt." Kaprice saw the black fire in the palm of his hands again; he must have been examining Roald with his power.

Alanna's amethyst gaze narrowed as she glanced at Kaprice and Roald. "You two have a lot of explaining to do." 

~*~*~*~

"So the Goddess sent Kaprice here to change the past," Alanna said musingly.

It was the first time since they had begun telling their story that someone else had spoken. After Roald had appeared, Alanna had commanded the two of them back into the tent to tell their story. And she had also added that if any others attempted to speak or interrupt, she would personally tie their tongue into several knots.

Alanna shook her head and sighed. "I don't know what to think."

"You don't need to think," Kaprice said quietly, "only believe."

Alanna gazed at her sharply. "You seem a bit young to do such a big job," she observed.

"And you seem a bit short to actually be the famed Lioness."

Alanna laughed. "Point taken."

There was a short pause.

"There is one other thing," Kaprice said.

"What's that?"

"Roald. Prince Roald, the one who seems ill."

"Seems?" Numair said with a frown.

"Seems," Kaprice said firmly. "He is only in a deep sleep. He will awaken again, once this Roald," she glanced at Roald briefly, "is gone."

"You're sure of this?" Numair questioned.

She nodded. "A person does not belong in two places at the same time. Roald's arrival has disrupted the natural order. Things will return back to normal after Roald and I leave here."

Numair contemplated her words for a moment. Then he nodded at Kaprice. "I will alert the king of your news later. He will be…glad to hear it."

"So what do we do now?" the tall man that Kaprice had learned was called Sir Raoul said. He gazed at Kaprice expectantly.

"I don't know," she admitted. 

She thought that her answer would make him upset, maybe even angry, but he only nodded cordially at her. He turned to Alanna. "There is little over an hour left until sunset. I will go see the men and make sure they're ready for the night." With a tired sigh, he exited the tent.

Alanna turned her bright gaze back to Kaprice. "Once anything comes to mind, alert me." She stood up and stretched. Others followed suit, flexing their cramped muscles.

She waited until most of the others had left before speaking again. "The gods have placed their hands on you." Alanna smiled a rueful smile. "And I don't envy you for it. But if you are worthy of the gods' faith, then you are most certainly worthy of mine. Good luck." Without waiting for a reply, Alanna limped out of the tent, favoring her burnt ankle.

Numair was the last to leave; he spoke to them first. "Roald, you said that it was the ring that kept you nearly immortal. Would you mind if I examined it?"

"Of course not--" Roald began.

"No," Kaprice said harshly.

She blinked in surprise, shaking her head. "Numair, I'm sorry; I don't know what came over me. But I cannot allow you to touch the ring with your magic."

Numair waited for her to explain patiently, his dark eyes fixed on her face.

"Roald only inherited this ring after the mage died. Well, the mage isn't dead yet. The ring's other self is still out there, still on the mage. Each time it or it's counterpart, the pit of Demon's Hill, is touched with magic, it gets stronger. Right now it is weak, but the touch of your strong magic will be noted. The mage will notice the change in his ring, for any change in Roald's ring will change the mage's."

Numair looked thoughtful about her words. "So the ring and the pit get stronger by others' magics. We'll have to make sure we're more careful." Then he frowned, struck by a sudden thought. "But what about the men who come from within the pit? The fire specters? Are we allowed to touch them with our magic?"

Kaprice waited, but no answer came to her. She gave him an apologetic shrug. "I'm sorry, but I don't know."

Numair waved a dismissive hand. "Don't apologize. Magic is limited; your Sight can only See so much at a certain time." He broodingly turned and wandered out of the tent.

Roald turned to look at her. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I guess not," she admitted. "Thank you for helping me."

He just laughed off her thanks and pulled her close. "Don't tell me that you just expected me to stand by and watch as they decided your fate."

"Well, I--" she began uncertainly.

"Oh, Kaprice," Roald said with a sigh. "Have a little more faith in me, will you?"

She leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. "I will try."

****

~*~*~

A.N.- So here's another _random_ question for you, courtesy of bored.com

Which is Worse?

1. Having a dream you are eating chocolate ice cream in the nude

OR

2. Waking up from the dream with a spoon in your butt.

*grin* that took me a couple of moments to figure out, cuz I was spacing out and only skimming it. But then I went back and had to read it again. It's disgusting, but it's funny too. *grin*


	22. Specters' Fire

****

Hey everyone, sorry about the delayed update. Even with break I'm struggling to write. Now for a few questions some of you guys had:

Didn't anyone notice Kaprice talking to thin air?

Sure, they did. But they just thought that she was a bit touched in the head, that's all. They never imagined that it was an invisible Roald she was talking to. Everyone already thought that she was strange (I mean, how many people come visit you from the future?) so they didn't think too much of it. 

****

Why doesn't Alanna just heal herself?

She did. But even with a great healing gift, you can't just make a severe burn injury go *poof*. The fact that she's able to walk is a miracle. 

****

Will Thorn and Evin appear anytime soon?

Funny how you should ask that. Smile and rejoice: they appear in this chapter. 

****

If something happens to the mage's ring, will it affect Roald's?

Yep, it most definitely will. 

****

This whole ring and demon's hill thing is quite close to Lord of the Rings.

Is it? I haven't read anything of Tolkien's (I keep putting it off somehow), so if I did make any parallels, they were not purposefully done. My apologies to Tolkien and to whoever else who may be offended or what not. 

****

Is this going to be a Ryker or Roald ending?

Blech. Yes, that is my response. Any other response that I could possibly make…would be much too informative.

****

if Kaprice changes the past, will she disapear? If she doesn't, then will she stay in the past? Then there will be two Roalds. Or, Roald will still be married to whats-her-name. And Kaprice can't love him anymore. But if she changes the past, and she's still around, will Roald even know who she is? Will anyone? 

*blinks* So many questions, so many complications. *smile*. But I can answer the first question: No. 

****

~Alright, that's it. This is my longest chapter thus far (indeed), so I hope everyone's happy. We've got lots happening in this chapter, hopefully you won't go on overload. 

22. Specters' Fire 

Kaprice was wandering through the encampment and towards the forest in the opposite direction of the barren slope that made Demon's Hill.

She had left Roald with his other friends. She was glad he was happy to be able to talk to his old friends again, but she felt like an outsider, someone intruding in a place where she did not belong. Would never belong.

The encampment was bigger than she had ever imagined, with more people in it that she had even thought. There were women, but the majority of the population was made up of tired, suspicious men. They glared at her as she walked by.

She walked faster.

She was glad when she finally exited the camp to be surrounded entirely by the forest. She slowed her pace, taking time and making sure she stopped long enough to admire everything. The great smell of rich dirt, fallen leaves, and diverse flowers filled her nose.

"Woah!" Kaprice stumbled over a tree root and was just barely able to keep herself from falling face first into a pile of leaves. 

"Hey! What are you--"

Kaprice glanced up in surprise when she heard someone speak. 

A skinny, mousey-brown haired man stared at her in shock. 

With his pants around his knees.

_Oh Gods…_ Kaprice groaned silently to herself. She had stumbled upon a man relieving himself in the forest.

"I'm sorry, I--"

Before Kaprice could complete her apology, the man pulled up his pants, turned around, and then ran away.

She started to give chase until she realized what she was doing. 

__

Woah, there. No need to chase the embarrassed little man.

Kaprice turned back and started to head back to the encampment. She was almost there, when she heard something.

"Don't do that," a laughing voice suddenly said.

Kaprice jumped, glancing around. But there was no one around her.

"Oh, all right then. Be stubborn."

Kaprice frowned and glanced around again. _There must be someone else in the forest somewhere nearby_, she realized.

The next time she heard the voice, she found herself curiously following it to its source.

Peeking behind a tree, she found her. 

A small, almost delicately so, brown-haired woman stood by herself in front of a great, vine covered tree. 

_Who had she been talking to?_

Kaprice blinked at the scene, quite perplexed. Then she noticed that the woman held a long, wooden staff in one of her hands; the staff almost seemed too big for the small woman to wield. But the strangest thing about the staff was the rose stem that curled around its entire length. The women held her staff, completely oblivious to the rose stem's nasty looking thorns. 

"Kaprice?" The woman suddenly turned and looked straight at her, causing Kaprice to jump. But the woman didn't seem the list bit alarmed. Only a little confused. "What are you doing here? I thought the others said you were with Roald?" 

Kaprice frowned. "How do you know my name? Do I know you?"

"No, you wouldn't. But Evin has told me about you."

"Evin?"

The woman just shook her head. "You will find that news travels quickly here. My name is Thorn," she said with a shy smile.

Kaprice paused, not quite sure how to respond.

The rose stem on Thorn's staff suddenly rustled. The top part pulled itself off the staff, and one of its buds started to grow.

And grow.

Until a fully grown red flower revealed itself to the waning sun.

Thorn suddenly leaned the top of the staff toward her. "Here. Lathan wishes me to give you this. He says you look …sad."

Kaprice glanced around herself. "Lathan?"

Thorn smiled. "Lathan is my staff."

Kaprice stared at the red flower hanging in front of her uncertainly. "What is it?"

"It is a type of flower called a rose. Take it for the gift it is. Very rarely does Lathan offer his blooms to strangers," Thorn said.

Kaprice reached up, still uncertain, and the rose fell into the palm of her hand.

Kaprice stared. "How did…how did--?"

Thorn smiled ruefully. "It's my fault. I…have a strange effect on plants."

"Oh?" Kaprice said curiously.

"I have the ability to communicate and grow them. An odd power," the woman shrugged. "But you would understand, wouldn't you? The power I have heard you have is anything but ordinary."

Indeed.

A sudden thought struck Kaprice, and she quickly reached into one of the folds in her desert robe. She pulled out a small bag and opened it, pulling out a seed from within.

"Here," Kaprice said, holding out the seed a bit uncertainly.

Thorn glanced at her curiously and held out her hand, accepting the seed.

"You said that you could grow plants…"

Thorn nodded with understanding and then knelt onto the ground. She delicately placed the seed onto the dirt.

Kaprice sucked in a breath with the seed began to move, wiggling itself into the dirt. She knelt down beside Thorn to get a closer look.

A green stem peaked out from within the dirt, reaching out as if to touch Thorn. As it continued to grow, leaves started to enlarge and unfurl, a bud of a flower appeared and slowly began to bloom.

The bud opened, revealing silky blue petals with distinctly curled edges; the petals framed a delicate golden center. A sweet, heady scent wafted through the air.

"Oh," Thorn sighed. "It's beautiful." With reverent fingers, Thorn reached out and plucked the flower deftly from the ground. She turned to Kaprice. "Here."

Kaprice shook her head. "No thanks. I already have one," she said, holding up the rose that she still held. "That flower is for you."

Thorn smiled, and the smile transformed her face: her brown eyes twinkled and she seemed younger, more innocent. "Is this a flower from where you come from?"

Her question made Kaprice feel distinctly sad. "Yes. Someone gave me the seeds as a parting gift…"

Before Thorn could respond, they were interrupted.

"Thorn?" A blond man called out to them.

With a start Kaprice realized she knew him: he was the young, blonde haired man who had been present at her interrogation. He had been one of the few to speak words in her defense. 

The blond man sighed when he spotted Thorn. "I should have known," he said with an exaggerated shake of the head, "that you would be out here talking with your crazy plants."

For a moment Kaprice thought that Thorn would be offended, but then Thorn let out a cheerful laugh. "Crazy, indeed. You're just jealous that they offer better company than you do," Thorn teased.

The man raised an amused eyebrow. "Oh really? But I don't know any plant that can do this--" He quickly grabbed Thorn, pulling her towards him and placing a kiss onto her lips.

A very long kiss.

Kaprice wasn't sure what to do: be embarrassed for them or laugh.

"Ahem," Kaprice pretended to clear her throat. She hid a smile behind her hand.

The couple broke apart, the man smiling broadly and Thorn with pink cheeks.

"Very subtle of you," the man said to Kaprice, grinning roguishly.

Thorn quickly jabbed the man in the stomach with her elbow.

"_That_, on the other hand, wasn't the least bit subtle," the man said with a wince.

Kaprice couldn't help it then, she had to laugh. 

Thorn made a face and turned to Kaprice. "Kaprice, this rogue is Evin Larse, commander of the Queen's Riders."

The man dipped into an elegant bow. "How ever did you fall into such bad company as my wife, Lady Kaprice?"

"Don't fall for his tricks, Kaprice. He'll only break your heart," Thorn said with a smile.

"Tricks?" Evin pretended to be offended. "They aren't--"

"Tricks," Thorn said with a knowing nod.

He looked at her pointedly. "You fell for them."

Thorn gave an easy shrug. "Well, I am a fool. I won't deny it."

Evin seemed to sense a change of mood in Thorn, he quickly pulled her into a comforting hug. He leaned his down towards Thorn's ear to whisper something that Kaprice wasn't able to discern.

Somehow, the hug seemed more intimate than the kiss had been. Kaprice shuffled on her feet uncertainly.

"Well, it was nice meeting you," Kaprice said.

Evin glanced up at her, his eyes serious this time. "We should get back to camp. It'll be safer there."

"Safer?" Kaprice asked quizzically.

"The fire specters are awakening." Thorn's voice was almost a whisper. "I can feel them moving underneath the ground, groping for air."

With a wordless nod, Kaprice followed the couple back to camp.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Roald? Roald?"

Kaprice turned a slow circle, eyes scanning the camp.

She couldn't find Roald. The moment that she, Evin, and Thorn had stepped into camp, Evin and Thorn had excused themselves and went off somewhere. And now, Kaprice was somewhere in the middle of the encampment, surrounded by tense, jumpy people who she didn't even know. And she couldn't just stop them and ask if they knew where Roald was. 

Lady Alanna had ordered those who knew about Roald to keep it quiet, which was sensible of course: who knew what would happen if everyone knew that there were actually two Prince Roalds in existence at the moment. 

_Lady Alanna. I'll just ask where Lady Alanna is._

"Excuse me, can you--"

"Don't bother me!" The man brushed away from her after giving her an annoyed glare.

Kaprice jerked away in surprise. _Well. That was real nice._

She turned to another person who walked by. "I'm sorry for bothering you, but can you please tell me where--"

"Foolish girl! This isn't the time for questions! Can't you see we're in the middle of a battle?" The man snorted with disgust and hurried away.

_Battle?_

With a sinking feeling, she turned to look in the direction of Demon's Hill. And indeed, there were people locked in battle there.

But Demon's Hill was too far away, she should have only been able to see figures in the pale moonlight. Motions of people struggling. 

And although she did see that, she saw something else.

A young woman with short brown hair fought against four fire specters, barely being able to hold them off with her staff. Oh wait, not a staff. It couldn't be. How many staffs had a long, curved blade fixed on one end?

The woman swung her weapon in a fierce arc, cutting off an arm from one of the specters. But still two others came at her from her back, and they were closing in.

_This shouldn't be possible. I shouldn't be able to see this. They're just too far away…_

But she did see. And it was as if the scene was right in front of her, instead of a good, sizable distance away.

A chill ran down Kaprice's spine and she was hit with a sudden thought: _Help her. You have to help her. She needs to survive. The future will need her…_

Before she realized what it was that she was doing, Kaprice clenched her hands by her side and concentrated on one thought: _To her side._

Silver light exploded from within her and when she was able to see again, she found herself but a few feet from the battle that she had been seeing when she was still within the forest encampment.

The fire specters were tall, skinny wraiths with peeling black skin. Their eyes were not eyes, but pits of red-orange fire. And they reached towards the brown haired woman with outstretched hands.

A cold shiver ran down Kaprice's back. _The hands… They mustn't touch her with those hands!_

"Look out!" Kaprice threw herself at the woman, bringing them both tumbling down.

The specters howled with frustration when their hands narrowly missed coming into contact with either of the women; fire roared from within what was their mouths. 

"Get up! We need to get up!" The other woman helped Kaprice shakily come back up onto her feet.

To Kaprice's surprise, she found that she recognized the woman. "Kel?"

Kel glanced at her grimly. "Thank you for that. But they're coming for us again. Their power lays in their hands, cut them off and they're rendered helpless."

Kaprice glanced at the specters, her hands clenched into fists to keep them from trembling. "Cut off their hands? With what? I have no weapon."

Kel's eyes widened. "You jumped into this battle with no weapon?" she asked incredulously. She quickly pulled at something from her belt: a dagger. "Here, use this. Unfortunately, I have nothing else to spare."

Without waiting for a response from Kaprice, Kel stepped away and raised her weapon in attack, focusing on two of the specters.

Leaving the other two to Kaprice. With only a dagger in her defense.

The two specters seemed to realize her plight. They laughed, fire dripping from their mouths. 

How was she going to get close enough to cut off their hands with a dagger without hurting herself?

Kaprice concentrated: _get behind them. _

There was a flash as Kaprice disappeared and then reappeared behind the two specters. A woozy feeling settled over her chest: she had teleported one too many times within a short while and she felt slightly weak as a result of it. Ignoring the unsettling feeling, she lifted the dagger and plunged it into one of their backs.

The dagger hilt turned fire hot immediately, and by the time Kaprice was able to step back in shock, the weapon had melted, and the liquid metal was sliding down the specter's back.

The specter whom she had stabbed was completely oblivious to the fact that he was supposed to be injured. He and his friend just turned around and started reaching for her again. 

Kaprice stumbled backwards, almost tripping over the brittle rocks that were scattered on the hilltop. She grabbed one of them and heaved it at the closer specter; he stumbled when it glanced off his forehead, but then he just continued towards her again with his steady, lumbering gait. 

She tried to use her powers again to move herself to another place, but only ended up with a dizzy headache. She staggered, falling to the ground like a drunkard.

_Get up! Get up! They're getting closer!_

But her body refused to obey her mind. 

"No! Kaprice!"

_Roald?_ Kaprice blinked unsteadily, trying to clear her cloudy gaze. 

Roald suddenly appeared in front of her, standing between herself and the specters. He then attacked one of the specters, expertly cutting off its arms at the elbow with his sword.

But while he had been slicing that one, the other one had been able to approach her. 

And it placed one of its hands over her lower leg. 

Intense heat scorched up her leg, spreading from where he gripped her leg in a vise-like grip. Her body froze at the pain he caused, her throat too dry to wring out a scream. It felt as if her insides were burning even as she struggled to take a breath. 

Through the black dots that danced across her vision, she was able to see the specter reach out to her with his other hand. 

And she knew, as certain as she knew her name was Kaprice, that if he touched her with both of his hands, she would die.

"Kaprice!"

She felt more than saw Roald throwing himself over her. And then the hand that had brought her so much pain was gone.

When her vision cleared, she was able to see where the hand had gone.

It was on Roald. The specter had his hand on Roald. 

Both hands. 

_No!_

Struggling from underneath him, Kaprice felt Roald's body suddenly become unbearably warm. Hot. Scalding.

The nauseating smell of burnt flesh drifted in the air. 

A sword hissed in the air; the specter's head went flying.

The specter's body was pulled off of Roald and then his hands were quickly chopped off.

Dom, his shoulders heaving with every breath, stood over her and Roald, his sword heavy in his grasp. A horrified look was on his face.

"Gods." He turned his head away. 

Kaprice finally pulled herself from underneath Roald; her leg, sore from where the specter had gripped it, hadn't helped a bit. She started to turn to look at him.

Someone grabbed her shoulder. "No, don't. Don't look."

Kaprice saw that the same horrified look that had been on Dom's face was now on Kel's.

"Roald, he--"

"He's dead, Kaprice," Dom said. He also put a firm hand on her elbow. 

"Roald is dead."


	23. Another Chance

****

Wait…Roald can't die, what about his ring??

Well, although the ring was powerful enough to make Roald immortal in the desert (seventy years after the present), it isn't strong enough to do that now. The ring became powerful over time; it wasn't always that way. In the time of Tortall that Roald and Kaprice are in right now, it isn't quite strong enough. And as a result, none of the people who wear the ring are immortal.

****

Is Numair the bad mage? How about Roald, could he have been the mage?

Nope.

****

Will Roald come back as an angel/guardian sort of thing?

Nope.

****

How can you kill Roald!!! Do you enjoy playing with our emotions?! I don't want to read this story anymore!

I'm sorry you feel that way. But my story goes as it goes. I will not manipulate it so that it better suits myself or any reader. I am merely the writer: I create the characters and pick the time and place. And then I put the story in motion. Once that it is done, the story creates itself; the characters will act as they will. If I try to interfere, the flow of the story will be broken and it will no longer be as it was. In other words, it would be ruined. And although Roald does come back in this chapter (if the title is any clue), the next time a male lead dies (or female for that matter), they might not be brought back. It all depends on the story and the characters who shape it. As the writer, I try to write down what happens to the best of my ability. Nothing more.

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Didn't Thorn's staff…die in your other fic? Wasn't it the one that killed Asianna? How could it be back now?

It isn't. Thorn has a new one.

****

What about the baby Thorn was supposed to look after? Where'd it go?

The child is now five years old. She is being taken care of by people in the palace in Corus. In addition, Evin and Thorn had their own child. He is a little toddler of three years.

****

Does Roald…err…the other one, remember Kaprice?

What's there to remember? He's the Roald of the past, he hasn't met Kaprice yet. He can't remember something that he never knew of in the first place. 

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Wait, is that guy (the one Kaprice saw in the forest) important?

Yes.

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How'd you get italics and bold into your bio?

here's how to make things in your profile italicized/bolded. Put a I and _then put the stuff you want in italics here. And when your finished, put a _/I. And that last thing will end the italics. If u want it bold, put a b **and** **then put the text u want bold here and then put a** /b. hope that helps.

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23. Another Chance 

__

Keladry of Mindelan

Kaprice struggled against her and Dom desperately. 

"No! You're lying! Stop, let go of me!"

Kel glanced over her shoulder at Roald's body. In a matter of moments, his body had gone from unrecognizably black and charred, to a pile of gray ashes huddled amongst limp clothes. 

Kel loosened her grip and glanced at Dom. "We might as well let go of her now. The worst has passed."

Dom nodded wordlessly and released Kaprice.

Kaprice hurried past the two of them and approached Roald's ashes.

Kel winced when she heard Kaprice's sharp intake of breath. 

"No, Roald…"

Kaprice glanced up at Kel and Dom. Dom flinched when he saw Kaprice's gaze, for her green eyes were horribly haunted. 

"Kaprice, I --" Kel started to say quietly.

"No," Kaprice said, her voice sharp.

"No?" Kel frowned.

But Kaprice was beyond Kel. Beyond Dom. Beyond any human present. 

Kaprice suddenly threw her head up toward the night sky and screamed. All those who were on Demon's Hill heard it and froze. The absolute rage and pain the scream contained made even the specters pause. 

And when Kaprice spoke, her words echoed through the air.

"That's it. I quit."

And in a blaze of silver light, she disappeared.

~*~*~*~

__

Kaprice

Kaprice was standing in a misty fog again. But this time, she wasn't surprised and uncertain.

She was furious.

"Daughter? What are you--"

"Damn you, I'm not your damned daughter!"

The fog separated to reveal a calm, unruffled Mother Goddess. "Kaprice," she said serenely. "Why are you here?"

"Didn't you hear?" she glowered. "I quit."

A short silence followed Kaprice's statement.

"Did you hear me? I quit! I will not do this any more!"

"What goes here?" another voice stepped into the conversation.

A man whom she did not know stopped at the Goddess's side. He wore shiny armor and held a huge, imposing sword at his side. 

"Who's this?" Kaprice asked scathingly. "Another one of you pesky gods, I suppose?"

The man gave her an intimidating glare. At least, it would have been intimidating if she hadn't been so angry herself.

"Oh, hold you're temper, Mithros," someone else cackled. "The girl has a right to be angry after all."

An old hag appeared by Mithros' side. She grinned broadly at Kaprice, showing off her gapped teeth. 

"A right to be angry, but not disrespectful," Mithros said sharply in return.

The hag just laughed. She suddenly looked over her shoulder and snorted. "Why don't you all stop lurking in the shadows and come out now? I think the girl's had enough of our games."

And one by one, the gods stepped out of the fog and joined the others.

Only after a couple dozen gods had appeared, did they stop.

"Is this…is this all of you?" Kaprice said in surprise.

"There are still more human gods. And animal gods. And insect gods."

"But there are…there are so many of you. Why didn't you _do_ something to stop the Devastation?" Kaprice's anger had dissipated, leaving her in a cloud of hurt and heartache.

"We _did_ do something. We surrendered our power to you," the Goddess said gently.

Kaprice shook her head. "You picked the wrong person. You surrendered your power to the wrong person." 

"Roald didn't think that," the Graveyard Hag said sharply.

Kaprice gave a bitter laugh. "And look where Roald is now."

"Where is he?" the Hag asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nowhere! He's _dead!_"

"But he was only trying to save you. If given the opportunity, he would have probably just repeated his actions."

"Then he shouldn't have tried to save me!"

"Oh? He was supposed to just let you die? And with you let your power, the hope for a changed future, die also?"

"Damn you and your power! That's all you gods ever think about!" Kaprice glowered. Then she dropped her gaze and shook her head. "I shouldn't have interfered. I should have just stepped back, instead of --"

"Instead of stepping in and saving Sir Keladry of Mindelan from certain death?" the Mother Goddess finished for her softly.

Kaprice closed her eyes and didn't reply.

"Kaprice, we understand how hard this is for you, but you mustn't give up--"

"No," Kaprice interrupted forcefully. "I can't do this. I _can't_." She couldn't and she wouldn't. Not alone.

As if reading her mind, the Goddess asked, "Does Roald mean so much to you?"

Kaprice glanced up at that and met the Goddess' eyes, the same green eyes that were her own. "Yes."

"What would your desert tribe be saying about you now," the Hag cackled, "if they knew you were so dependent on this young prince?"

"They'll say whatever they want to say. They have been for all my life," Kaprice said coolly.

The Goddess glanced at Mithros expectantly.

Mithros stared back at the black haired woman with a frown.

"Well?" the Goddess finally demanded with exasperation.

"Well what?"

Then the god's eyes narrowed as he realized what the Goddess was silently trying to tell him with her eyes.

The frown on his face grew a tad wider. "Are you sure about this?"

The Goddess just gave him a serene smile.

"Very well," Mithros consented. He held up a hand in front of him and focused his gaze on it. Within the palm of his hand, a tiny silver speck appeared. It was about the size of a fingernail.

The Goddess gently took the little speck from his hand, cupping it in her own. Then she carefully lobbed it into the air towards Kaprice. 

"Be wary, Kaprice. We will not be so generous as we are now in the future."

Kaprice stood still, her uncertain gaze on the silver speck that came toward her. And then, as gentle as a glittering snowflake, it landed on her forehead.

Immense cold suddenly washed over her body. No, wait, it wasn't cold. Or heat. It was more of a _void_ of everything. Sight. Hearing. Smell. Sensation. She couldn't see anything; she couldn't seem to breathe. And she couldn't even remember how to move her arm or blink her eyes. 

But then she felt it. The power inside her was _moving;_ she felt it contorting and stretching, completely out of control.

__

What did the Gods do to me?

The speck the gods had thrown at her was trying to her own power. No wait, it wasn't. But then what was it doing?

The speck was pushing out her own power in an insistent, stubborn manner. 

__

What it is that you want me to do? she asked it silently, opening herself up to it's movements.

The speck showed her, and she did her best to copy its movements with her own power. Only after she had finished did the foreign influence fade away.

And then, just as quickly as it had come, the void was gone, and she stood, arms wrapped around herself, gasping from breath. 

It was the noise that told her that she was no longer where she had been moments ago. She glanced up and looked around, finding, in her amazement, the Tortallan encampment. 

__

Where did the gods go? Why am I suddenly…

A very clear image suddenly settled in front of her. Keladry of Mindelan was struggling against four specters on Demon's Hill. And Kaprice was once again hit with the sudden thought: _I can't let her die._

But Kaprice was able to stay the impulse to transport immediately to her side this time. And during her moment's hesitation, she was able to figure out what was going on.

__

That little speck that the Goddess had thrown at me. It had shown me how to manipulate my magic so that I could go back into the past again.

The Goddess…the gods have given me another chance.

And Kaprice wasn't about to waste it.

Kaprice focused on teleporting again, but this time she did not jump to Kel's side. 

She went, instead, to Dom's.

Dom was just finishing off with a specter when she appeared. Kaprice stepped forward, completely ignorant of the fact that her leg no longer ached with pain the specter's earlier touch had invoked, and grabbed his arm.

His mouth dropped open at her sudden appearance. "Kaprice?"

"Quickly, Kel's in trouble!"

"Where?"

Kaprice quickly pointed him in the right direction, and then he was off. Kaprice stepped back and watched, her breath trapped tightly in her chest.

__

I hope this isn't just another mistake…

Her breath came out in a _whoosh_ when she realized that both Kel and Dom were going to be all right. Dom, with his superior fighting skills, had been able to dispose of the specters with more dexterity than Kaprice would ever have. 

But then her breath got caught in her chest again when someone grabbed her from behind.

"Kaprice!"

Kaprice sagged against Roald's chest. "Gods, Roald! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

Roald hair was wild; his eyes glittered with anxiety. "Kaprice, you really shouldn't be out here." He sheathed an ash covered sword but kept his medallion tightly in the other. "It's not safe."

__

But it's not safe for you either!

But Kaprice held her tongue and let Roald lead her to a horse which would take her back down to the forest encampment. She watched him silently as she let him pull on her hand.

Finally, he stopped to turn back towards her. "What is it? What's wrong?"

She tightened her grasp around his hand, staring silently into his face.

"Kaprice?"

She gave a silent sigh. _You have absolutely no idea…_

She shook her head. "I can handle the horse from here. You go back to Demon's Hill."

But even as she said the words, her hand refused to let his go.

He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss onto her knuckles. "I'm needed out there. Especially with my ability to go invisible. I have to go."

She reached up to press a kiss onto his cheek. "Just don't die on me, all right?"

Her fingers, cold with the night air, relaxed their hold on Roald's hand and let him go.

~*~*~*~

Finished with watching, the Goddess dipped a finger into the small pond and let Kaprice's image shimmered away. 

"A stubborn wench," the Hag observed aloud.

"That she is," the Goddess agreed quietly with a nod.

Mithros was still looking into the now clear pond, a look of amusement on his face. "She is odd, even for a mortal. She is quick to anger, but forgets about her grudges just as quickly as she gets them. She can be as fierce and bold as a dragon in one moment, but be weak and lack determination in the next."

"In other words," the Hag snorted, "she's unpredictable."

"Very much so," Mithros nodded.

"It only adds to her charm," the Goddess said reflectively.

All three gods then settled into a meditative silence, each one lost in one's own thoughts.

~*~*~*~

Kaprice peeked out from behind her tent flap and glanced around. 

The battle with the specters had ended just under an hour ago. There were still several more hours until dawn. The men had returned to their tents, exhausted. They needed to get their rest, for they would have to fight the battle with the specters against during the next night. 

Kaprice pulled the tent flap back, being extra careful with her small, lit candle, and tiptoed over to the next tent over.

To Roald's.

She quietly snuck into his tent.

Roald, to her great relief, had survived the night. If she ever met with the gods again, she would have to remember to thank them. 

Kaprice paused at the head of his tent and listened. Roald's soft, rhythmic breathing filled the air.

He was asleep.

After carefully placing the candle down on the ground, she kneeled down beside Roald. She waited, wanting to make sure he was fully asleep before doing anything.

Once she was certain, she reached for his hand. 

Roald had one of his hands out, over the blanket that covered him. But it wasn't the hand that she wanted.

Carefully, she lifted the corner of his blanket back until she revealed his other hand.

The hand with the mage's ring.

Delicately, she reached for the ring and started to slide it off Roald's finger.

And then she jumped when Roald's hand suddenly lifted and entwined its fingers around her own.

She slowly lifted her gaze and met Roald's very wide awake one.

His blue eyes glinted with amusement in the candle light.

"How long have you been awake?" she whispered.

"Since the moment you stepped into my tent."

Kaprice just shook her head.

"What are you doing, Kaprice?" Roald asked, his voice tender.

"I was just--just--"

"Trying to steal my ring?"

She glanced away, flustered. "As I told you before, there is no need for you to wear it now. I can wear it instead. It brings you so much pain, Roald. I only wanted to ease some of it."

"You already have." Roald scooted over to the side and lifted his blanket while pulling gently on her hand. "Come, Kaprice. Why don't you blow out your candle and join me under the blanket, where it's warm?"


	24. The Devastation

****

You didn't update in such awhile! I thought you abandoned us!

Hah, no such luck. I'm still here, and I'm still writing. Have no fear. 

****

Thorn and Evin? Who are they? I didn't read the Briar series…

Thorn and Evin are characters from my other fic, "Bloody Thorns". Briar and the Circle of Magic have nothing to do with my fics (and they probably won't for a long time, since I find it harder to write for the Circle of Magic). Since Evin is the commander of the Queen's Riders, I thought it made sense to have him at the scene. And Thorn will have an important role to fulfill later, so I didn't just pop her into this fic for nothing. 

****

Thank you, thank you, thank you for bringing Roald back! I'm glad he's alive again!

*contemplates* now if only he would stay that way…

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Is Ryker appearing soon? What about Mindy? And Neal? Is he joining the party?

Indeed, Neal _is _joining the party. Neal is mentioned in the chapter after this one, and he does have a small role in the chapter following that. Ryker? Oh, he'll definitely be appearing in the last/second to last chapter, at the least. Mindy too.

****

When Roald die, did the other Roald wake up?

Yep. But since it was only for a brief moment, I didn't mention it. But yes, he did awake. 

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Why can't there be two rings? One on the future Roald and one on the mage or present Roald?

*frown* but there _are_ two rings. My apologies if that was unclear. That's why Numair wasn't allowed to examine the ring on the future Roald: any change in power in his ring would affect the one on the mage.

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You said you couldn't alter the flow of the story. then why were you asking whether or not to put in thorn and evin? 

Well, Evin was going to be in it either way, he's the commander of the Riders, after all. But I wasn't sure if I should allow Thorn to appear. I decided to include her because she will help a future event make more sense. It would make sense without her, but it would just be sort of random and weird. With her around, the future event is more understandable and acceptable. This might be confusing right now, but you'll understand when we get to the future event. Let's just say that Thorn is going to be doing something important, and the event has to do with the title of this fic. (No, Thorn isn't going to intentionally make Kaprice cry)

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24. The Devastation 

The others were gathered around the pit of Demon's Hill again.

Alanna, Numair, the mages. They were once again trying to suppress the fire with their Gifts.

__

No. What are they doing? I thought I already told them not to…

She hurried over towards them, calling out their names, "Numair! Alanna! Please stop! You're only aiding the fire!"

But the mages completely ignored Kaprice's protests and continued to feed the fiery pit their Gifts. 

"No, please! You have to stop!"

Kaprice reached out with a hand, intent on getting Alanna to pay attention to her. But her hand seemed to slide through Alanna's shoulder, and the momentum of the movement brought Kaprice stumbling down onto her knees.

__

Oh gods…

Kaprice, still kneeling on the dirt, reached out with a hand and tried to touch Alanna again. 

And failed again.

__

No…no…

Kaprice turned around to Numair and tried to touch him instead. But her hand slid through his leg and reappeared on the other side. 

__

I'm invisible! But why? Why have I become invisible, like…

"Roald!" 

She had not noticed him before, but Roald was one of the mages gathered around the pit, and he was determinedly pouring his blue gift into the opening. 

__

I don't understand. What_ is going on?_

Suddenly, her stomach gave a disgruntled rumble. 

__

No, wait. That wasn't my stomach. It was…the ground?

Kaprice placed both hands on the dirt and leaned her ear down to listen.

There, there it was again. That distinct rumble. It was still quiet and almost indiscernible, but with her close proximity to the ground, she was able to hear it.

But the others didn't. They just continued with their spell.

Kaprice knew then, that there wasn't much time. She didn't know what was going to happen, but she did know that whatever it was, it was going to happen. Soon.

A sudden noise pierced her mind and paused her hurried thoughts.

Laughter. Someone was laughing.

Jumping to her feet and turning, Kaprice saw someone at the edge of the forest, watching the mages work intently on the pit.

And he was laughing.

Which was, in and of itself, strange, because he was too far away for her to be able to hear him laughing. 

But she did.

With a start, she realized she recognized him. It was the man she had stumbled upon in the forest before she had met Evin and Thorn. He had been relieving himself and then ran away when he saw her.

But why was he laughing?

Suddenly, the scenery changed. The ground dropped away from beneath her; the scorching sun disappeared. 

When she was able to see again, it was night and she found herself once again on Demon's Hill. 

Amidst a battle. 

The knights and men of Tortall were battling against the specters. But that wasn't the sight she was drawn to. 

Instead, she was drawn to a fight between Alanna the Lioness and the mousey-haired man. The man who had been laughing at the mages just moments ago.

The man was not as good with the sword as Alanna was. But he pressed on anyway.

And when he raised his sword in attack, Kaprice saw a familiar glint on his hand.

The ring. Roald's ring.

Kaprice was hit with sudden understanding: _He's the mad mage. The mage responsible for all of this_.

With a sudden flurry of movements, Alanna sent the mage's sword scattering across the dirt, away from his reach.

The mage's face contorted; he shouted words at Alanna that Kaprice was somehow not able to hear. His ring glinted yellow with a sudden surge of his Gift. 

Suddenly, two specters climbed out of the pit of Demon's Hill, and hulked toward Alanna.

"No! Don't let him get away!"

But Kaprice's shout was unnecessary, for Kel and Dom appeared to fight off the specters.

The mage opened his mouth to shout again, but it was too late.

Alanna, with an expert slash that Kaprice couldn't ever imagine doing herself, gutted the mage, and he staggered to the ground.

But he didn't die. Not yet.

Instead, he opened his mouth and laughed.

And laughed.

His laughter echoed through Kaprice mind in such a way that it actually hurt.

"It's not over yet!" he cackled insanely. "You may have gotten rid of me, but you haven't yet gotten rid of my hill. Nor will you ever…" 

And then with one more wheezing laugh, he died.

The specters vanished, all of them, startling the men who had still been fighting them. And as the wind blew, the mage's body suddenly gave away, falling into ash. His hair, his clothes, everything was turned into ash.

Everything except for his ring.

His ring laid imperiously on top of the pile of ash and glinted in the moonlight.

If Kaprice didn't know any better, she would have said that it was laughing at her.

And then it disappeared.

Alanna whirled, her eyes glittering a fierce amethyst.

Her shout was carried all across Demon's Hill.

"Where is it? Where is the mage's ring?"

In the moments that followed the echoing of Alanna's question, an unsettling feeling fixed itself around Kaprice's heart.

Then someone stepped up and spoke. "It's…it's on me. I seem to be wearing it somehow."

Roald's blue eyes were dark with apprehension. His hands were out in front of him, one of them straining against the other, as if trying to take something off. 

"And the ring won't come off."

The ground suddenly dropped out from beneath her for a second time, and she was suddenly standing on Demon's Hill in daylight. 

And the rumbling that emanated from the fiery pit was deafening. 

Roald stood nearby with the other mages, his ring glinted with great power.

And Kaprice understood.

__

The ring and Demon's Hill are connected. And since the mages have fed Demon's Hill so much power…

The ring was now powerful enough to make its bearer immortal. And the hill…the hill…

A cry rang out from those on Demon's Hill.

"_Run_!"

The ground underneath everyone shook and laughed. Fire leaped up, impossibly high, from the open pit.

And the world exploded. Or at least, to Kaprice, it seemed that way.

Victims did not even have enough time to scream as their bodies were toasted by the pit's liquid fire. Ash and smoke blackened the air, making it impossible to breathe and turning the day to night.

Luckily for Kaprice, the liquid fire passed right through her without the slightest of effects. And she was actually thankful for being invisible.

When the air cleared, seemingly hours later, Kaprice was able to glance around.

And she immediately wished that she wasn't able to again.

She was standing in shoulder deep liquid fire, and although it did not hurt her, it still made her feel uneasy.

The country of Tortall was simply gone. The whole continent was gone. The trees, the forest, everything was gone, flooded with potent liquid fire. The red rivers of fire were the only things she was able to see. Or actually, it was more accurate to refer to it as an ocean. 

__

No, wait. What's that?

Something that was not red was struggling against the liquid fire. Like herself, the fire did not seem to hurt him.

__

Oh, no. It can't be…

But who else could it be? Who else had been able to survive the flooding?

Roald.

She closed her eyes, not even wanting the imagine the pain he must be feeling. _To lose everything. Literally. In such a bad way…_

And he couldn't even see her, so she couldn't offer him any comfort. 

Suddenly, the earth rumbled again.

__

Oh, please. I thought it was over…

But it wasn't. Once again, the pit started shooting something high into the air.

But it wasn't liquid fire this time.

This time it was sand.

And this time, it was having an effect on her.

A burst of sand landed on her face and shoulders, hurting her eyes and causing her to choke.

She turned away, trying to shake the sand out of her nose and mouth, but the sand kept coming.

And coming.

The sand seemed intent on pushing the liquid fire away and taking its place. 

Blindly, she stepped about, trying to find higher ground to stand on, to keep her head above the flooding of sand.

Something that had been floating in the liquid fire floated over and hit her painfully on the shoulder. She grabbed at it, just about to throw it away from her when she realized what the round thing was.

A skull.

With a shriek, she jumped back, only to stumble and fall head first into the increasingly high sand.

And it was everywhere, in her mouth, her nose, her ears.

She choked, struggling for breath and trying to keep herself from screaming.

Water suddenly hit her on the face, and she sputtered and opened her eyes.

"Oh gods, Kaprice. Finally, you're awake. Are you all right?" 

Roald held her tightly against his chest, cradling her head onto his shoulder.

When she opened her mouth to speak, she found that the only thing she was able to release was a scream.

"Hush, it's going to be all right. You're safe. You're safe."

"Here, give her this to drink," another voice said.

Kaprice glanced up in surprise and found that Roald's tent was full of people. Numair, Alanna, Kel, Raoul, and Evin were all looking at her with looks of concern. 

Roald took the drink that Alanna held out and gently pressed it to Kaprice's lips.

"Here, drink."

Kaprice drank, and the liquid slid soothingly down her parched throat.

"Oh, Roald," she finally said when she was finished. "I saw--I saw _everything_. And it was so horrible! I'm sorry you had to go through it all alone."

Roald tensed. "You…you Saw?"

"Yes."

"What was it that you Saw, Kaprice?" Numair asked her quietly.

She glanced up to meet his dark eyes. "The pa… the future. As it would have been had I not come to interfere."

"That bad, was it?" Raoul asked, frown creasing his forehead.

"Very bad."

"Kaprice can tell us all about it at a later time. I think she needs to get some rest now," Alanna said. 

With some puzzlement, Kaprice noticed Alanna staring strangely at her. Or actually, at her hand. Kaprice glanced aside to look at the hand that she had rested on Roald's shoulder and found that its fingers were trembling. Taking control of her hand, Kaprice quickly clenched her hand into a tight fist.

Alanna nodded at Roald quietly and exited his tent.

Raoul followed, a contemplative frown on his face. 

Numair wandered out after giving Kaprice a pat on the head.

Kel leaned in to say something before leaving, "Thank you for saving my life last night."

__

Saving her life? Kaprice frowned.

__

Oh, right. Last night when I had sent Dom to help her, she remembered. That moment had seemed like such a long time ago.

Evin gave her a sympathetic smile before turning to leave. "Take care of yourself, Kaprice."

Kaprice leaned her head against Roald's shoulder and closed her eyes after everyone had left.

"Why can't I ever have normal dreams, Roald?" she said with a quiet sigh. "Dreams without visiting the gods or seeing into the past or future. Is that so much to ask?"


	25. The Pain of Laughter

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There are two rings. (that's an answer to the: how many rings are there question). If there are two rings, why could Roald die? 

*tries to think of a way to make this answer simple* well, Roald used to be immortal because the ring made him so. But the ring wasn't always powerful enough to do that. (or else, the mage who had first had the ring would have never died and Roald would never had gotten the ring). Because Roald is now in the past, his ring has been reduced in power to the amount of power it would have had at that moment. (so his and the mage's ring are equal in strength). I hope that explanation wasn't as confusing as I think it is…

****

So all of that was a dream?

Yep, except for when Kaprice wakes up…

****

If the gods got in the way of her first true love why would they go so far to save this one? 

Because they need Kaprice to do the job they want her to do. Ryker stood in the way of her running away and separating herself from the tribes. They had to separate the two of them, or Kaprice would never have been willing to do what the gods asked of her. I mean, she finally gets a guy who she cares about and who cares about her, and the gods want her to go back into the past to change the future? If she was with Ryker, she might have been too happy with the future to change it. And the gods had to save Roald, because without him, Kaprice didn't want to do her job anymore. She had gotten over one guy, but doing so with another so soon after the first would be a bit more difficult. So it wasn't that the gods preferred one guy over the other, or that they thought that one would be better for her than the other. It was because they needed Kaprice to do her job and couldn't allow for things/others to stand in the way.

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Since its in the future and really the gods haven't been like distrusted do the still have all there powers 

Even after giving Kaprice the majority of their powers, they gods still had a little left (they're not _that_ generous). They didn't have enough to send Kaprice into the past again themselves, but to show her how to do it herself.

****

If one ring is destroyed, will that be enough to stop the Devastation? Or do both need to be destroyed?

Destroying one will do the job. 

****

So the mousey haired man is a new character? And he's the mage responsible for the Devastation?

Yes. Yes.

****

And why did he run away from her in the forest? Was he afraid of her?

Afraid? More liked shocked and embarrassed. I sure wouldn't want to be caught in that sort of situation.

****

If everyone except Roald died, how did the tribes get there?

There are always those lucky people who somehow find a way to survive (an abnormally tall mountain, an underground cave, etc.) just think of how annoying it is to get rid of ants. No matter how many times you spray them with insecticide, they always come back. They always do and always will. Hmmm…don't ask me why I'm comparing us to ants…

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How many chapters until the end?

I'm not quite sure yet, but I'm thinking…uhm…I'll end at about chapter 28 or 29. Yep, folks, this story is drawing to a close.

25. The Pain of Laughter 

The night was approaching, and all too soon, too.

It was the first time that day that she had been able to get a little time for herself. After a quiet nap, she had awakened to tell the others about her dream. After she had finished, she had hung out with the others, getting to know them. And then they had sent her away with the orders of getting some more rest.

And at the moment, another nap sounded very appealing, for the simple telling of her nightmare had drained a lot of energy from her.

But she had work to do. She couldn't think of getting more rest now.

Not when she had so nearly ruined everything.

Roald had been right. After the initial disaster with Alanna, she had felt more welcomed here than she had ever felt at home. Alanna awed Kaprice with her sword fighting skills as much as with her temper. Numair mused on about magic, going lengths Kaprice would never have considered. Daine had introduced her to many of the wonderful creatures living in the forest. Evin made her laugh while Thorn grew another one of her precious seeds for her.

And although they weren't quite the best of friends yet, Kaprice had spent some time with Kel, Dom, and another young knight by the name of Neal.

And Roald…

Kaprice grimly clutched the sword that she had sheathed at her side and ducked out of the encampment. The breeches and simple shirt that she had changed into made slinking around the trees a lot easier than it would have been in her desert robe.

Keeping herself parallel to the encampment but out of sight, Kaprice headed toward Demon's Hill.

She knew where she was going. Or, at least, she hoped she did.

She wasn't as worried about where she was going as she was about not being sighted.

_The others mustn't see me. Or they won't let me go. They won't let me try to fix my mistake._

And she had to.

Once she got to the edge of the forest that bordered the bottom of Demon's Hill, she carefully glanced around.

_No, this isn't it. This isn't the right place._

She turned to her right and quietly started walking again, keeping herself in the edge of the forest and glancing about warily.

And then she found the section of forest that was familiar.

_This is it. The part of the forest that I had seen the mage hide in during my dream_.

Being even more careful of her movements now, she quietly continued to walk into the forest. Since she had not seen the mage at the outer edge of the forest by Demon's Hill, she would need to go deeper.

After several minutes of walking, she finally came across something interesting.

A small tent and a still smoldering campfire. There was also a horse with several saddle bags beside it. 

And all of what she saw was inside a glittering yellow dome. A protective circle, Roald had called it. 

_So this is where the mage has been residing._

Kaprice kept herself to the shadows and waited, hands clenched at her sides nervously.

As the last rays of the sun flashed across the dark sky, the mage appeared from inside his tent. Her waiting had paid off. She wasn't quite sure which she felt more: relief or fear.

When Kaprice saw him, a cold shiver ran down her spine.

_He must die. This mage must die_.

His death would bring her one step closer to stopping the Devastation. 

Of course, he had also died in the past even without her interference. That had not been the problem. Where the others had gone wrong was when they had continued to funnel their power into Demon's Hill.

She had stopped them from continuing that. So there was one hurtle down.

But the mage still needed to die. For he was the one calling the specters from inside the fiery pit every night.

In the past, the mage had died from Alanna's hand. 

And that was Kaprice's mistake.

When she had first arrived, she had tackled Alanna down in her efforts to stop Alanna from using her magic. But Alanna had gotten too close to the pit. And so, she had injured her ankle.

And because of that injured ankle, Alanna was in no shape to fight.

Even though her sword skill was superior to the mage's, her ankle made a battle between them lean to the mage's advantage.

Kaprice should have stopped to think about her actions before she had tackled Alanna. She had made a mistake, a stupid, stupid mistake.

And she could only hope that it wouldn't be fatal. For herself.

Because, since Alanna couldn't kill the mage, Kaprice was going to. 

Or, at least, try to anyway.

_Come on…come on…_

As if hearing Kaprice's thoughts, the mage stepped out of his protective circle.

And made himself accessible.

Kaprice leapt forward, her sword drawn and poised in front of her.

The mage saw her a moment too soon, and he was able to duck away from her slash.

He drew his sword, and they circled one another, eyes wary.

"How can you see me?" he suddenly asked her.

It was then that Kaprice noticed the yellow streaks of power that hovered over his body. He must have been using his power to make himself invisible.

"No magic is hidden from me," she said through clenched teeth.

His brown eyes narrowed as he suddenly swung his sword at her. "You are the maiden I saw in the forest the other day. Who are you?"

Kaprice ducked and swung her own sword. "My name is Kaprice. I am not from around here."

He blocked her attack and brought his own sword dangerously close to Kaprice's head. "I should have killed you when I had the chance."

_Had the chance? You were the one who was running away!_

She slashed at him angrily, but she only managed a shallow cut to his forearm. 

There was a sudden rustle in the trees behind her.

The mage flashed his teeth at her in a feral, animalistic manner. "They're here."

"Who's here-"

Kaprice's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach.

Three specters broke out of the forest and started to head towards her.

From the corner of her eye, she saw something silver glinting at her.

She scrambled back, but the sword was too quick: it cut a deep wound in her arm just below her shoulder. Luckily, it was her left arm and not her right.

But it still hurt like hell.

The mage laughed his insane cackle; just hearing it made her wince. 

"I would have really liked to kill you myself," she heard him say, "but I think it'd be more fun to watch and hear you scream with pain when they finally reach you."

She would have really liked to turn around and bash him over the head with something painful, but the specters were closing in. She had to give them her full attention.

The moment one was close enough, she struck out with her sword and cut one of its hands off. The sword hilt grew warm in her hands, but luckily it didn't start melting. 

_There's too many. I could have fought against one and, if I was lucky, two, but not three. Not three…_

"Stop."

The mage turned his head, "Say, what?"

"Stop," the voice commanded again.

And the specters stopped. Taking advantage of the moment, Kaprice reached out and cut off another specter's hand. 

The mage frowned, "What's going on here. Why are you stopping? Kill her!"

The specters started to reach for her again.

"Stop!" the voice said again, strained this time.

_Wait, I know that voice…_

Roald stepped out from the shadows and grimly faced the mage.

"How are you… You can't command them! Only I can!"

"You command them through your ring. As I do." Roald held up a hand. The ring on it glittered.

"No! That's not possible! How can you have that… The one on my hand is the only one…"

"It isn't anymore." Roald's hands were clenched at his side. The tension on his face was obvious. It was a great strain for him to try to control the specters.

But the mage was also showing the strain. "Kill her! Kill them!" His rang out at an unusually high pitch.

The specters fluttered together, uncertain and confused.

Kaprice once again pressed forward: she swung again at one of the already injured specters.

Then, to her surprise, she saw Dom step out of the shadows and aid her, expertly cutting down yet another specter.

And from the corner of her eye, Kaprice saw Thorn sneak up behind the mage, her unusual staff raised high. 

The mage staggered to the floor, knocked off his feet by Thorn's hit to the back of his head. Kaprice saw blood starting to spill from where the staff's thorns had connected. Strangely enough, he was still conscious. 

He bared his teeth at the four of them. "Idiots," he spat. "You may have gotten rid of me, but you--"

"We haven't gotten rid of Demon's Hill," Kaprice finished. "I know, I know."

He glowered at her.

She stepped closer to him. "Tell me, how _do_ we get rid of Demon's Hill?"

He lifted his head, and for a moment, she thought that he was about to answer her question.

But then he started to laugh. And laugh. 

He laughed his crazy cackle, the cackle that echoed painfully through her head now as it had in her dream.

The mage's head suddenly went flying.

Kaprice, one hand still covering one of her ears, dropped her bloody sword. She could still hear his evil laughter in her head.

Suddenly, she realized what it was that she had just done. Her eyes widened with horror.

"Gods," she murmured. His laughter had been so horrible; she had actually cut off the mage's head.

A tangible silence floated in the air. 

Suddenly, the wind shifted, and Kaprice realized that the only thing left of the mage was his ashes. And his ring.

She reached out desperately, wanting to grab it, but it disappeared right before she wrapped her fingers around it.

"Where could it have gone?" Dom asked softly.

Kaprice glanced at Roald.

Roald was busy studying the ring that was still on his hand. He reached up with his other hand and gave it a firm tug.

It stayed right where it was.

Roald closed his eyes for a moment. Then he opened them and glanced at her grimly. 

"We'll have to ask Alanna to contact the castle. She'll have to ask King Jonathan to check if his son is suddenly sporting any new pieces of jewelry."

~*~*~*~

"It's deep and it'll hurt for awhile, but considering the fact that he could have taken your whole arm off if his swung had been aimed the right way, you got lucky."

"Kaprice, _what _were you thinking, going out there on your own?"

Kaprice flushed under the pointed glares that both Neal, acting as a healer, and Roald were giving her.

"I'm…sorry?" she offered with a wince. 

"Sorry?" Roald cried out incredulously. "That's all you can say? You nearly died out there! Why didn't you tell one of the others?"

"I didn't want to risk anyone else getting killed needlessly." Roald's glare only grew more pointed. "Besides, everyone was already busy with preparing for the coming night," she added quickly.

"Oh, let up, Roald. Just be thankful that she's still alive," Dom said lightly.

Kaprice sent him a thankful side-long glance. He winked back at her.

"Where did you get that sword you were using, Kaprice?" Dom asked, smoothly changing the subject.

She wished he had changed it to another. "I…er…found it."

Neal raised an eyebrow. "Found it?"

"Yes. It was just lying there, unused, so I…"

"You stole it," Roald finished. He shook his head, but Kaprice saw the corners of his mouth draw up into a silent chuckle.

Neal laughed and Dom's eyes glittered with mirth.

"Well, then," Kel said suddenly; she had approached them earlier and had been listening to their conversation quietly. She was hiding her grin behind a hand. "We better get the sword cleaned and return it to where you 'found' it, before the owner finds out that its been missing."

~*~*~*~

__

Keladry of Mindelan

About a third of the knights and half of the riders had left camp. Kaprice said that the specters were gone, since Roald was now in control of the ring, but nobody wanted to risk it. What would happen if the specters were some how able to obtain control over themselves and were able to run free?

Kel had seen what those specters could do. She had actually come close to being another one of their victims, but Kaprice had interceded. 

_Thank the gods for sending her_.

She had also been told of Kaprice's dream. The flooding of fire and sand. Absolute destruction.

"He's changed."

"Understandably," Kel said to Neal quietly in response. She didn't turn and face him: she didn't want to see his usually so cheerful green eyes filled with bleak helplessness.

"It's strange, seeing him this way," Neal said softly.

Kel watched Roald from beside Neal, who was also watching him. They'd been doing that a lot lately. Silently watching Roald while he didn't know it. 

"Why don't you go speak to him?" Dom suddenly suggested. "You know you want to."

Kel turned to watch Neal's response this time. She saw the indecision in his face.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," she said. "Especially now, when everyone's busily trying to figure out some way to--"

"Well, if not now, then when? Later? With the end of the world looming so close?" Dom said pointedly. "You should speak to him about what's been troubling you two. You're supposed to be good friends, after all."

Neal threw his cousin a wry look before heading toward Roald. Kel found herself giving Dom one of her own looks before following.

"Roald, may Kel and I speak with you for a moment?" Neal called out.

Roald nodded. "Of course." He finished the conversation he was having with one of the mages and turned toward them. "Is something wrong?"

Silence greeted Roald's question, since neither Neal nor Kel knew what to say next. 

_If the situation wasn't so serious, I would have teased Neal for actually being able to keep his mouth closed._

"Roald, what about Shinko?" Neal suddenly blurted out.

Kel blinked. _So much for keeping his mouth shut. Well, at least he got to the point. Or one of them, anyway._

Roald stared steadily back at them. "What about her?"

"Do you no longer care for her?" Neal asked cautiously.

"I will always care for her, just not the way that I used to." Roald frowned. "Neal, why are you asking me this? Do you not like Kaprice?"

"It's not that, Roald," Kel quickly interceded. "He's just --_we're_ just trying to figure out how you could change so much. That's all."

Roald gave them a grim smile. "Change? How can I not? I was left to wander the desert that used to be Tortall. I alone survived the Devastation. I saw it happening. I saw _everything_." He took a deep breath. "I saw you dieing, Neal. And you too, Kel. I saw how the fire ate away so quickly at your skin. I saw everyone die. Here one moment, then gone in the next." He held up a hand, palm up. "How could I _not_ change? After seeing what I saw?"

And in that moment, Kel realized how pained Roald was. How desolate and alone he must have been. His face held the same look that Kel thought she sometimes spotted on Kaprice's.

"But now you have Kaprice."

Roald glanced at her. "Yes, but now I have Kaprice," he repeated quietly.

Kel saw Roald's gaze suddenly shift. He scanned the area behind Kel, searching for something, for someone. And only after he found the person, did his gaze stop searching.

And she knew without looking over her shoulder, that he was watching Kaprice. 

"Roald, what will you do when all this is over?"

Kel noticed how Neal said _when,_ and not _if._

Roald's gaze came back to rest on Neal for a moment.

"Kaprice will probably return back to the future, back to her own time," Roald said.

"But what about _you_, Roald? What about you?" 

This was the main question that had been bothering her of late. What would Roald do? If Demon's Hill was destroyed, and with it, the ring, then Roald would no longer be immortal. He probably would not have lived long enough to meet Kaprice seventy odd years from now. While Kaprice could return to her own future, Roald had no future to go to. Not this Roald. So where would he go? What would he do?

"Roald?"

His eyes flickered for a moment. And when she saw the flickering, she knew that Roald had been thinking and worrying about his future also. 

Then Roald's gaze went back over Kel's shoulder. He made no move to answer Neal's question.


	26. The Only Way

****

So…what _will_ happen to Roald after the Devastation is reversed?

I believe this chapter will answer that question.

****

And the mage's ring did land on the sick Roald who's still at the palace?

Yep.

****

So while everything now is going on, is the future still happening?

Heh, what an interestingly confusing question. *think think* the future _is _still happening, even without Kaprice. So, for all we know, Ryker and Mindy could be married while Kaprice is off saving Tortall. Time runs the exact same in both dimensions. An hour in the past is an hour in the future. A day is a day, yada, yada, yada. The future will stop and change only once the devestation is stopped. So the exact moment demon's hill goes 'bye bye', the future that kaprice knows will also disappear. 

****

~~A.N.: Geesh, I haven't had a real one of these author note things in awhile. But I just thought I'd take a moment to say _thank you_ for all your reviews. I love hearing from you guys, and I'm really glad you're willing to take time from your busy lives to read/review my fanfic. 

Now on to the chapter…

****

26. The Only Way 

A cold shiver ran down her back.

Kaprice closed her eyes and tried to ignore it.

It came again, the suspicious shiver, stronger and more insistent this time.

"Kaprice?" Kel asked with concern.

Kaprice glanced up slowly, to stare into the eyes of the crowd gathered around her. "The only way to destroy Demon's Hill," she said slowly, "is to destroy the ring that it is connected to."

Alanna leaned back into her seat. "Roald's ring? But how?"

Kaprice laid her head on her hands. "I don't know."

"We can't touch the ring with any type of magic," Numair thought aloud.

"And it won't come off of Roald's hand," Raoul said grimly.

"So what do we do?"

Indeed, that was the question going through everyone's mind.

Kaprice lifted her head, and her eyes met with Roald's. 

Alanna stood up and gave Roald's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Don't you worry, my lad. We'll think of something."

~*~*~*~

__

Kaprice

It had been three days since the mage had been killed. Three long, long days.

Most of her time was spent atop Demon's Hill, as were the others'. They even had several tents set up halfway down the hill. 

The mages spent every waking minute thinking of ways to destroy the ring without hurting Roald. They had already attempted several ideas, like trying to close and plugging the gap of the pit. 

But all their efforts were for nothing.

Fire continued to blaze inside the hill, and even though the mages were not feeding it their power, Kaprice could feel it getting stronger with each passing hour.

"Kaprice?"

Kaprice jumped visibly, stumbling back into a pair of supportive arms.

"Demon's Hill isn't going to disappear, no matter how hard you stare at it," Roald said softly into her ear.

"Indeed," Kaprice replied dryly, "that would make my job here too easy."

Roald smiled, but his smile did not mask the concern and anxiety and Kaprice was able to spot.

She reached up to squeeze his arm. "We'll think of something, Roald. Really, we will." But she didn't sound as sure as she wanted to.

"Kaprice…"

"What?"

"You know I love you. Right?"

She frowned. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

Roald glanced about himself distractedly. He closed his eyes, only to open them again a few moments later. His hands were clenched into pale fists.

Kaprice glanced at him curiously. "Roald?"

Roald suddenly grabbed her to him, wrapping his arms around her in a breathtaking hug.

"Just wanted to make sure."

"Make sure?" Kaprice was completely lost now.

Roald gently extricated himself from their embrace. He murmured something that Kaprice could have sworn sounded like, 'Goodbye.'

And then he headed up to the pit of Demon's Hill.

~*~*~*~

__

Keladry of Mindelan

"Dom, you really shouldn't--"

"Roald! No, no, _no!_"

Dom glanced up first. His mouth dropped open at what he saw. 

Kel quickly turned around. 

Even in the night sky, she was able to see Roald's clear form atop Demon's Hill. And he was literally one step away from falling into the pit.

He held out his hands in warning to Kaprice, who stood several feet away from him.

"Oh, no." 

Dom and Kel wordlessly rushed to the top of the hill.

"Roald! Come away from the pit!" Alanna demanded, not far from Kaprice.

"Immediately!" boomed Raoul.

"What in all gods' name does he think he's doing?" Neal asked, catching up beside her.

"I don't know," Kel said hollowly.

"Come no further!" Roald commanded. "Don't make me hurt you." A surge of navy blue power flared from his hands. The blue oddly reminded her of the blue of the night sky.

"Roald? What are you doing?" Kel called out worriedly.

Roald turned to stare at her squarely. "I'm destroying Demon's Hill."

"But the only way to do that is--" Neal began.

"Is to destroy the ring!" Roald held up his ring. "And I'm ready to destroy it."

Kel suddenly understood his meaning. 

And she was horrified.

_Oh, no. This is all my fault. If only I hadn't plagued him earlier about his future…_

A snap of black magic suddenly shot out from one of the mages, but when it approached Roald, Roald held out his ringed hand and let the ring consume the fire.

"You might as well give up using the Gift," Roald said, his tone almost flat. "You will only make Demon's Hill stronger."

"Come away from the pit, Roald. This is foolish and unnecessary," Alanna said, frightened and angry.

"Foolish? Maybe. Unnecessary? Definitely not," Roald said in return. "There is no other way--"

"Roald, please don't do this."

Roald turned to face Kaprice's quiet plea. And for a moment, Kel thought that Roald might change his mind. The look on his face clearly said that he wanted to.

But he stood firm. "Kaprice, I saw everyone here perish during the first Devastation," he said, voice pain-filled. "And I don't want to see that happening again. And I especially don't want to see you die with the others."

Kaprice reached out a hand to him. "We'll think of another way, all we need is some time--"

"There isn't enough time. You, better than any one else here, know that."

The fingers of Kaprice's hand trembled, but she did not lower it. 

"Roald, please."

Roald slowly turned his head, taking a long, slow look at everyone around him. 

"It was wonderful coming back into the past. I'm glad I was able to have a last look at all of you before…" Roald's voice cracked, he couldn't finish his sentence.

Lastly, he turned to gaze at Kaprice. 

And his blue gaze was clearer than the night sky.

"Forgive me," he said.

Then he stepped back.

And fell into Demon's Hill.

~*~*~

__

In the palace at Corus

Somebody was squeezing his hand.

He winced and slowly opened his eyes.

He glanced up to see Shinko sitting on the bed beside him. Her head was bent downward and her luxurious hair hid her face. She held his hand in both of her own and was just sitting there, stiller than a statue.

He frowned with puzzlement. "Shinko?" His voice rasped unfamiliarly in his throat.

Shinko let out a small cry and lifted her head. "Roald?"

He glanced at her in surprise. "Love, why are you crying?"

~*~*~

__

Kaprice

Kaprice stood numbly, staring at the place that Roald had been standing just moments earlier.

_He's…gone._

And then she reacted, moving forward toward the pit. She wasn't sure if what she wanted to do was reach in and try to pull him out, or just to jump into the fiery pit herself. 

But then the ground underneath her rumbled and growled angrily.

"What's happening?" she heard somehow shout behind her.

And then the ground moved. It shifted, stretched.

Kaprice staggered to the ground, knocking her elbow painfully on the ground, but she didn't realize her injury. She was busy staring, aghast, at the ground.

The earth around the pit was moving. Falling. 

Filling in the fiery pit that Roald had fallen into.

"_No!"_

Kaprice hurried toward the pit, but it was too late. The pit was gone, the hole somehow magically filled. 

"Please no, please no…"

Kaprice clawed desperately at the dirt, trying to dig into the earth. 

But it was impossible. No matter how hard she beat at the earth, it refused to reopen its hole. And not only that, but the hill continued to rumble and shake.

~*~*~*~

__

Keladry of Mindelan

"Off the hill! Get off the hill!" Kel heard Thorn shouting. "The magic within the pit, it's been released back into the earth! Get off the hill before you get knocked off your feet by a tree!"

As if hearing Thorn's very words, a tree suddenly shot up from the ground a foot in front of her. Kel got knocked backwards by the rapidly growing branches that struck her as they spread toward the sky.

"Can't you control it!" Alanna shouted, her voice sounding strangely far away. 

"There's too much power! None of it being my own! The best I can do is slow the growth! Evacuate the hill!"

Dom knelt and pulled Kel to her feet.

"No, Dom, what about Kaprice?" She turned her head, searching frantically for the other girl.

Dom cursed as a bush suddenly sprouted from just another his feet. "Quickly, where is she?"

"Over there!"

Kel rushed toward Kaprice, dodging trees that continued to sprout from under foot. 

Kaprice was kneeling on the now grass covered earth, tearing at the brown dirt.

"Kaprice, get up! We need to evacuate the hill!"

Kaprice ignored her and continued to beat her fists down onto the earth where the pit had been earlier.

"Kaprice!" 

Dom grabbed Kaprice around the waist and tossed her over his shoulder. Kaprice shrieked with anger and transferred her fists to beating down on his back.

Dom winced but did not voice any complaint. He opened his mouth to speak to her, but Kel couldn't hear the words, the forest's growth being so much louder. 

She simply grabbed at his hand, and they both ran down Demon's Hill to safety.

By the time the sun was peaking out over the horizon, it was finally over. It couldn't have lasted for more than half of an hour, but it seemed like a lot longer.. Demon's Hill was gone, no longer even a hill. The earth had flattened itself out, a full forest had grown over the land. A traveler would not have been able to differentiate between the newly grown forest and the forest that had already been there.

"How dare you! You bastard! Damn you!"

For a moment, Kel thought that Kaprice was yelling at Dom.

"How dare you leave me! Damn you, Roald! Damn you!"

Kaprice pushed past the others and rushed back to the where Demon's pit had been. A huge oak tree stood where the pit had been. If it had been Kel, she would not have been able to find where it was. But Kaprice went straight to it, as if guided by an outer source.

"Damn you, Roald! How dare you do this to me!"

Suddenly, Kaprice's cursing ceased, and the forest was flooded in a blaze of silver light.

Time seemed to be suspended; everyone held their breaths.

But then the silver light slowly faded away, leaving a shocked and confused Kaprice.

And when Kaprice turned to glance back at them, the look on her face could only be described as utterly miserable.

"They won't let me," she murmured. "The gods. They won't let me change it; they won't let me bring Roald back…"

Everyone stared.

Kaprice slowly fell to her knees. She brought her hands to the dirt at the base of the tree, but this time she didn't hit at it like a mad woman. 

"Look!" Thorn suddenly said with a gasp.

Something golden glittered among the tree's branches.

Thorn reached upward toward it, and with her power, influenced the tree's branches to her will, bending them downward to the earth where they were in reach.

The branches parted as they lowered, and everyone was able to see what object hung among the leaves of the tree.

A golden medallion.

Thorn gently reached up with her staff and removed Roald's medallion. Kel saw Thorn turning to Kaprice and then back to the medallion, uncertain as to what to do next.

But Kaprice was oblivious to everything that was occurring behind her. 

"Please, Roald. Please come back. Please…"

Kel saw the glimmer of silent tears on Kaprice's face.

"Roald, come back. I need you."

Kel closed her eyes and turned her face away. She held her expressionless mask tightly on her face, but she knew that if she watched for any longer, she would also start to cry.


	27. Remembrance

****

Dammit! If that stupid blowsearch pop up ad does not stop popping up right now…~~~!!!

Does Roald (the one that woke up) know Kaprice?

Nope, he's just good old Roald, the one who has no clue about what just happened. 

****

How many more chapters?

Well, there were only going to be 29, but the epilogue chapter is being incredibly evil and long. So I'll have to split it into two, making this fic a total of 30 chapters. That's right, 30 chapters. So there's three not including this one. (ahh!!)

****

27. Remembrance 

__

Thorn

The heavy presence of mourning hung all over the column. 

_Poor Kaprice_.

She understood what it felt like to lose someone you loved. No, she had not lost her own lover, but she had cared greatly for the person whom she had lost. 

But Evin had been there for her. Evin had been her savior.

But Kaprice no longer had one. 

"Look."

Evin held out an empty hand to her. But when he flicked his wrist and reopened his hand, she saw that a flower lay there for her.

_It's Kaprice's flower. _

Thorn took the beautiful flower delicately from Evin's hand. It was the same one that she had grown in Kaprice's presence several days earlier. Her power had let it survive for much longer than an normal flower would have.

Thorn held up the flower for Evin to smell. "It's wonderful, isn't it?"  
Evin smiled his wonderful smile.

"We've just about arrived at Corus. I've got someone to speak to; I'll be right back." Evin gently handed back the flower before riding away.

Thorn rode at the very front of the column that was returning to Corus. Kaprice and the other younger knights who she had befriended rode with her at the back of the column. The back of the column was gloomy indeed.

"Mamma! Mamma!"

Thorn quickly pulled herself off of her horse and rushed toward the little figure who was running toward her. 

"Delora!"

Delora let out a great laugh and flung herself into Thorn's arms. "Mamma, you're finally back!"

"Indeed, I am. What are you doing out here by yourself?"

Delora quickly shook her head. "I'm not by myself. Nanny is right over there."

Thorn squinted to see the figure who was 'right over there'. 

"And where's your brother at?"

Delora made a face. "Kayne's sleeping." Her tone clearly expressed her puzzlement with why young three year olds had to sleep all the time.

"Look, mamma! I have a surprise for you!"

"Oh? What is it?"

Delora stepped back and reached into her coat. And from within her coat, she pulled out a small, slightly wrinkled flower. "Here!"

Thorn stared at the dainty blue flower in shock. "Where did you get that?" The familiar desert bloom's scent floated through the air. 

Delora's eyes grew mischievous and she leaned in to Thorn's face, as if to whisper some great secret. 

"I found the seed for it in the courtyard. Aren't you proud of me? I followed your words exactly, and you were right! I grew a flower!"

"In the courtyard?"

Delora nodded proudly. "Yes."

Thorn quickly grabbed Delora and settled her onto her horse, pulling up behind her afterwards.

"Let's go find the seeds for this flower of yours, Delora."

~*~*~*~

__

Kaprice

"Are you thirsty?"

Kaprice snapped out of her reverie and stared at Neal blankly.

Neal's shoulders slumped after facing several long moments of Kaprice's empty gaze. "Never mind."

Kaprice settled back to gaze vacantly at the object she held in her hand.

Roald's medallion.

"Kaprice, we've arrived."

Kaprice slowly lifted her head and blinked. "What?"

"We've arrived at Corus, Kaprice," Kel said to her gently.

"Oh. Alright."

Dom stilled warily and glanced around. "Do you smell that?"

Kel glanced at him. "Smell what?"

"That..smell."

Neal cocked an eyebrow. "You'll have to be a bit more descriptive than that--" He frowned suddenly. "Wait, I do smell something."

Kel had also scented it by now. "It smells wonderful. I wonder where it comes from?"

"The desert."

Kel jumped. "What?"

Kaprice's gaze sharpened visibly. Her green eyes, so dull and dead earlier, were more vibrant now, more alive.

Kaprice pressed her heels into her horse's side and it started to gallop ahead.

Kaprice, too intent on pressing forward, didn't hear the other knights' protests.

She stopped her horse only when she got to the front of the column. Knights and riders were milling around in the courtyard, whispering about what was growing there in awe.

Striking blue flowers grew in great clusters throughout the courtyard. The scent that the knights had smelled earlier had come from them. 

"Wow! When did these get here?" Neal blinked in great surprise.

"I've never seen flowers like those before," Dom said musingly.

Kel knelt close to one of the flower clusters, breathing deeply. "They're lovely."

Kaprice remembered how she had tossed out a generous handful of Ryker's seed into the wind before leaving for Demon's Hill. "My flower. How--how did…how did they grow so quickly? And so many of them."

Thorn and Evin suddenly stepped out from behind a tree. Thorn was smiling shyly at her while Evin grinned mischievously. Evin also held a little girl in his arms. She was playing with one of Kaprice's desert flowers. 

And Kaprice, to everyone's amazement, started to cry.

Thorn looked horrified. "Oh, no. Please don't cry, Kaprice. If you don't like the flowers, I'll get rid of them--"

Kaprice quickly held out a hand in protest. "No, please don't."

"But you're crying," Thorn said with concern. "They weren't supposed to make you cry."

"No, no. I like them. Really."

"But--"

"Thorn, Kaprice likes your flowers. Stop worrying." Evin smiled reassuringly.

"Hi. My name is Delora," the little girl in Evin's arms said suddenly. "Are you the one who put the seeds for these here?" She held out her blue flower while smiling winsomely.

"Yes."  
"They're beautiful!" Delora exclaimed. "Here, you can have mine! I grew it myself!"

Kaprice took the flower the girl held out uncertainly. "Thank you."

Neal suddenly let out a conspicuous breath and turned to her. "Kaprice, maybe we should go inside now." He stepped in front of her and started to point her to the castle.

Kaprice studied Neal's suddenly worried gaze. And then she turned her head and took a good look around the courtyard.

And saw what Neal must have seen before he had tried to block her view.

Roald. Walking with…his wife Shinko. They were among the crowd of spectators enjoying the new addition to the courtyard. He had one of the blue flowers in his hand and was weaving it into Shinko's long black hair.

"Don't be sad."

Kaprice jumped in surprise when she felt the little hand grasp her own. Delora stood in front of her, gazing up at her with big, brown eyes. "Don't be sad," she said again.

Kaprice gazed down at the blue flower that she held in her other hand. She lifted it to her face and breathed in its wonderful scent.

Then she glanced down and gave the little girl a shaky smile. 

"I'm not."

~*~*~*~

__

Keladry of Mindelan

The king, the queen, Alanna, Raoul, several of the mages from Demon's Hill, and several knights, including herself, and Neal, were gathered in the room. Dom, Thorn, and Evin were also there.

Everyone's gaze was on the person who stood quietly in the center of the room.

"My duty here is finished. There is no reason for me to linger here any longer." Kaprice took a breath. "But before I go, I just wanted to say thank you. You have all been good to me, better than anyone has ever been. I was unusual and unexpected," she paused here to nod at Alanna, "but you welcomed me nonetheless. Thank you."

"Nonsense. _We_ should be thanking _you_. You helped us defeat Demon's Hill," Alanna said.

Kaprice shook her head and gave the red-headed knight a smile. "You are gracious."

Alanna gave a very unlady-like snort.

"There is one other thing." Kaprice reached into her robe and pulled out a small paper bag. "I would like to give you this as a gift."

"What is it?" Evin asked curiously.

"More seeds for the flowers that Thorn grew in the courtyard." Kaprice reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of seeds to show everyone.

"I know that it can not be known to the rest of the world what really happened on Demon's Hill. Only those who were actually there will know the truth. The rest of the world does not know about me, about Roald. About what he has done. And I know that it must stay this way."

_She's right_, Kel suddenly realized.

_How…sad. Nobody except those who were there will know about Kaprice and Roald. About how they had saved the world from turning into endless desert. Nobody will know what they have done…_

To do so much…to give up so much…and have so few know about it. 

Kel's heart went out to Kaprice. 

"These seeds were first given to me with the hopes that I would not forget about the giver. They were for remembrance. And now I give them to you. For remembrance." 

King Jonathan spoke. "We would be honored." He slowly bent at the waist, offering Kaprice one of his best bows. Everyone else quickly followed suit.

Kaprice smiled. "I--"

The door suddenly burst open.

"Father? Mother? Alanna? I've been looking everywhere for you. What's this I hear about a secret meeting--" Roald stopped mid-sentence when he found everyone looking at him with looks of dismay. 

"What's the matter?"

"Roald--" someone started to say.

Roald frowned at Kaprice. "Who's this?"

Kel turned to glance at Kaprice. Her green eyes were wide and sad, but steady as she gazed back at Roald. 

"Your highness, Prince Roald," Kaprice said quietly. "My name is Kaprice." She lowered herself into a curtsy that was elegant even in her desert robes. She lowered her face, but Kel was able to spot the look of pain on it.

Then, still bent into her curtsy, Kaprice disappeared with a great, shimmering explosion of silver light.

_She's…gone._

And the only thing that convinced Kel that what she had seen was real, that Kaprice was real and had actually come from the future to revert the Devastation, was the shiny golden medallion that lay where Kaprice had been standing. 

Kel closed her eyes and took a deep breath, smelling the amazing scent of the desert flower that suddenly permeated the room.


	28. Kaprice's Tears

****

Could Roald have cut off his hand and thrown it in Demon's Hill?

Hmm…I suppose he could have…*frowns*. A gruesome process however.

****

So you've already written the epilogue? Which means you've been waiting to post to build up suspense? That's so cruel!

Err….yes. I am cruel. *evil laugh*

****

What's going to happen now?

You'll just have to read this chapter to find out.

****

A.N.: Okay, I'm going to refresh people's memories. RYKER: Kaprice's past lover from her time in the desert; ATHAIR: Ryker's over-controlling and abusive father; MINDY: young woman who wants Ryker and threatens Kaprice; LONNA: another young woman, used to be a friend of Mindy's; COWELL: dead young man, Mindy's older brother who died by Kaprice's hand; GHRIS: also dead, Lonna's older brother who died by Cowell's hand.

I think that's it.

****

28. Kaprice's Tears 

__

Kaprice

Kaprice was in the foggy mist again. And although she couldn't see any of the gods, she knew they were there.

She waited for them to speak first.

"Well, daughter?"

"Well, what?" she said back.

"What happens now?"

"Why don't you tell me?"

Silence followed Kaprice's retort. 

And Kaprice realized how petty she sounded. Like a grudge-holding, ignorant child.

And she wasn't. Not after all that she had gone through. 

__

This is it, Kaprice, she told herself. _It's all over. The job the gods had given you is finished._

It had not been without a cost, but she had struggled with the Devastation and won. 

__

But couldn't there have been another way?

"No, daughter. There wasn't."

Kaprice narrowed her eyes and stared at the Goddess who now chose to step out of the shadows.

"Think, Kaprice. Once you had reversed the Devastation, where could he have gone?"

"He could have come back into the future with me."

"But with the destruction of the Demon's Hill and the ring's power, he was no longer immortal. He would have lived out his life in Tortall and then died. He would not have lived long enough to meet you. There is no future for him to return."

"But couldn't have done something? Couldn't you bend the rules just a bit?"

The Goddess shook her head.

No. No, of course not.

"Roald knew all of this. He understood what would happen once the Devastation was reversed. And that's why he acted as he did."

"No, Roald didn't--"

Kaprice stopped mid-sentence.

"_Kaprice…you know I love you. Right?"_

"Of course. Why do you ask?"

"Just wanted to make sure…"

Kaprice's eyes widened and she recounted part of their last conversation.

__

Oh gods…he did_ know. He knew what would happen to him once the Devastation came to an end. _

He knew that they could never be together. And so he had jumped.

And somehow, realizing this only made the pain in her heart increase.

__

Well, then. What happens now? 

"Tortall will be as it was, the future that you know will be gone. Everyone will be reborn as new people, in new places."

"Will I remember anything that has just happened?" she asked haltingly.

The Goddess shook her head. "No. But you will have the opportunity to start over. Begin anew."

__

Begin anew. _Not remember anything. _

For a moment, she wanted to scream. She wanted to curse and shout. 

__

I could leave here like a foolish child throwing a tantrum. Or I could acquiesce understandingly and accept my fate.

Which way will I choose to walk away?

She then remembered Roald. His blue eyes, dark with pain and sadness. But his form, straight and tall. And filled with resolute determination before leaning into the pit of Demon's Hill. 

She gazed piercingly at the mirror image of herself, at the Goddess.

And then she lowered into a curtsy.

"I'm ready. Reclaim your power from me and return me to my time."

~*~*~*~

__

Lonna

The shaman's words were interrupted when there was a sudden burst blindingly silver light.

Several tribesmen let out a startled cry while others were too shocked to utter even a sound.

It took awhile for Lonna's vision to become clear again, but when it was, she wasn't sure if what she was seeing was real.

A hooded figure suddenly stood several feet away from her, next to the platform she stood on. And the figure held a small blue flower in her hand.

Ryker, who stood beside Lonna, let out a strangled gasp. "_Kaprice?_"

The figure raised her head, and Lonna was able to see that it was indeed Kaprice. 

Kaprice seemed a bit disoriented and unsettled at first, but then she took a steady glance around herself, and the confusion left her face. 

Kaprice amusedly surveyed the tribes people's shocked faces. "I hope I haven't interrupted anything important," she said mockingly.

"How did you do that?" someone asked with a tone of obvious awe.

"That?" Kaprice said derisively. "That was nothing."

Chieftain Athair stood up from his seat and put a hand on the hilt of his sword, which hung at his side. "Witch, stay away from my son."

Kaprice lowered her hood as she stared at the Black Hawks chief. "I have not come here for your son, Chief Athair."

"Oh? Then why have you come here, murderer? You would dare to disrupt my son's wedding--"

"I am no murderer--" Kaprice suddenly stopped. She blinked and shook her head; Lonna saw her silently mouthing the word "murderer" to herself.

"Be assured, Athair, I have not come here to steal your son from you," Kaprice said abruptly. "I apologize for interrupting his wedding."

Kaprice turned then, and stared piercingly at Lonna. Lonna felt herself flush under Kaprice's scrutiny. She had felt so proud of herself moments earlier, with her delicate silk robe with golden embroidery, her hair pinned up and brushed to a shine. Even Mindy's acidic glare had failed to daunt her. But with Kaprice here, staring at her like that…

Kaprice's stare then moved on to Lonna's arm, which rested in the crook of Ryker's elbow. And then the stare lifted to Ryker, who cut a fine figure in his own wedding attire.

For a moment, Lonna thought that Ryker would pull away from her and rush to Kaprice's side, leaving her alone on the platform with the shaman.

But Ryker stood straight and proud and easily returned Kaprice's stare.

And then Kaprice turned to stare at Lonna again, and to Lonna's utter surprise, Kaprice smiled.

"My best wishes to the newly joined couple," Kaprice said gently, bending into an elegant bow. 

"Stay away from my son--" Athair started to snarl.

"Get her!" A wail pierced the atmosphere. "She killed my brother! She murdered him and then ran away!" Mindy started to sob.

But nobody moved toward Kaprice. No one except Athair, who had his sword drawn by now.

Kaprice crossed her arms over her chest and lifted an eyebrow. 

"What will you do now, Athair? Will you kill me for defending myself against the young man that you set upon me?"

Athair faltered before stepping toward her again. "You have used your evil powers to bewitch my son. And then you seduced and killed Cowell and Ghris, two young men from your own tribe. You do not deserve to live."

Kaprice didn't move from her spot; she just continued to stare at Athair scornfully.

Lonna felt Ryker tense beside her. But he did not move in any other way.

Athair halted a few feet from Kaprice. His sword hesitated in front of him.

"Oh, come on, Athair. Now that you have the chance to kill me, you won't?"

__

She's doing it on purpose. She's deliberately taunting the chieftain.

Ryker suddenly turned his head to glance at Lonna, and she knew that he had reached the same conclusion. And in his soft hazel eyes, she saw the question that he would never voice aloud.

They had become surprisingly close over the last week or so. She had found him stumbling blindly in the desert and nursed him back to health. He had not talked about what he had seen out in the desert, and she had not bothered to ask. They had come to a quiet understanding: nobody mentioned Kaprice, nobody mentioned the past.

She had been pleasantly surprised when he had asked her to marry him. Too surprised to object.

But she knew that he did not love her. Not like he had loved Kaprice. He loved Lonna as he would a sister or a good friend. And although she wouldn't have minded if the relationship had grown to be more, it remained as it was. And she wasn't going to push for more.

__

Poor Ghris, she thought wistfully. Ghris had always been kind and decent to her. He had been silent and withdrawn only when he had been around Cowell. But although she still missed her older brother, she did not blame Kaprice for his death. _If only Ghris had been friends with Ryker instead of Cowell. Then he wouldn't have ended up as he did…_

"Go to her," she suddenly said to Ryker. "Go to her," she said, giving him her permission and answer to his unspoken question.

Ryker gave her hand a gentle squeeze before stepping away and leaping off the platform.

"Father, don't--"  
"Stay away from her, Ryker!"

What happened next, Lonna would never know. But what happened as a result of it was too clear.

Ryker fell to the sand, blood spreading over his delicate clothing.

Athair, eyes wide with shock, stepped back and dropped his bloody sword.

"Ryker!" Lonna hurried off the platform to kneel by Kaprice, who was examining Ryker and his wound.

"You foolish, foolish man! Look at what your blind hate has done! Are you happy now? Are you happy that you've nearly killed your son!"

Athair was too stunned to be angry and insulted by Lonna's brash words. 

"Why are you always so horrible to Kaprice? She has done nothing to you! Nothing!" Lonna's last sentence was not just for Athair, but for the rest of the tribes.

"What can't you just--" 

Kaprice gently placed a restraining hand on Lonna's shoulder.

"It'll be all right."

"All right?" Lonna repeated, aghast. "Ryker is--"

"It doesn't matter," Kaprice said. "Come nightfall, none of this will matter."

The way Kaprice spoke made Lonna hesitate. "What do you mean?"  
Kaprice turned to gaze at the setting sun. "Once the sun has set, none of this will exist. The desert will disappear. There will be no desert tribes." Kaprice turned to gaze at Lonna. "Come nightfall, the Devastation will never have occurred. All will be as it should have been." 

Kaprice's gaze fell tenderly to Ryker's form. "You have been good to him during my absence. Thank you for that. Thank you for taking care of him while I was gone."

"It was nothing," Lonna said hollowly.

Kaprice knelt beside Ryker again. She gently placed her blue flower over his chest. Then she lowered her head and closed her eyes.

__

What is she doing?

She's waiting, Lonna realized. _She's waiting for nightfall_. 

Lonna slowly knelt beside Kaprice and joined her in her vigil.

~*~*~*~

__

About two weeks after Kaprice's departure from the palace at Corus 

Roald's eyes flew open and with a sudden burst of energy that one usually did not have while half-asleep, sat up in his bed. 

It took him several blinks and breaths to get oriented. 

__

That damn dream again.

Roald sighed and rested his head in his hands.

He had woken at least once every night for the two weeks past. His sleeping was disturbed; he could hardly drag himself out of bed in the morning. His concentration was utterly wrecked; he would find himself nodding off during the day. 

And he couldn't even remember one aspect of the dratted dream that was causing him so much trouble.

But he did know one thing. All right, so he didn't _know_, not for sure. But he had his hunch.

His dream involved that girl he had seen half a month ago. 

__

"Your highness, Prince Roald, my name is Kaprice." 

She had spoken as if she had known him, which was odd since he had never seen her before. 

And her eyes, so strikingly green, had held such great sadness in them that he had instinctively started to reach out towards her. 

Until she had disappeared.

He had tried to talk to the others about her. None of those conversations had been very productive. And yesterday, when Kel had finally gotten tired of his asking, what had she said?

__

"She's …a foreign visitor."

"And I'm a scullery maid," he had scoffed. "She disappeared in a flare of silver light. No mortal has silver magic. Who is she, and why won't anyone tell me who she is?"

Kel had given him an odd look then, one that somehow mixed sadness with irritation. "The answer you look for will not be to your liking. Now forget about her; you will never be seeing her again. None of us will. Just let it be."

Just let it be.

But how could he, when these dreams woke him every night?

__

And why can't I remember a damn thing that occurs in these dreams?

The dreams plagued him horribly, for when he woke up from them, he always woke up with immense feelings of desperation, pain, and melancholy. 

__

It involves that girl. But why do I always feel so upset when I wake from the dreams? I've never seen her before…how could she have such an affect on me, whether it's in the dreams or not?

Who _is_ she?

"Roald?"

Roald jumped.

"The dreams again?" Shinko asked him softly, sitting up on their bed.

"Yes," he sighed in reply. 

"Do you remember anything from them this time?"

"No," he shook his head. He gave a growl of frustration. "I just don't understand it. Why can't I ever remember any of the dreams?"

Shinko squeezed his hand supportively. "Speak with Numair. Maybe he'll know how to make the dreams go away."

"No, not until I figure it out--"

"You've already asked the others about the girl. They will not answer your questions."

"I'll just keep asking--"

"Roald, you've practically driven them mad with your questions. They've got work to do, you can't continue disrupting them like this. And you can't keep disrupting yourself either."

Roald silently mulled over his wife's words before giving in. "All right. I'll speak with Numair, and find out if he knows how to make the dreams stop."  
"Good." Shinko leaned over to give him a kiss. "Try to get some sleep," she said as she laid back down.

He nodded. "I will."

But he sat still for a long moment, just brooding. He found his gaze wandering around the room to stop at the stand beside his side of the bed.

Where a vase containing blue flowers glinted in the moonlight that peeked through the window.

__

"Where do the flowers come from? How did they so suddenly come to our courtyard?"

"They came as a gift," Thorn had said.

"A gift? From who?"

Neither Thorn nor Evin had moved to answer his question.

"Well, what are the flowers called?"

"They are called," Thorn had said haltingly, raising her eyes to stare penetratingly at Roald, "Kaprice's Tears."

Kaprice's Tears. Kaprice. That girl again.

Shaking his head, he leaned toward the vase and breathed in the flowers' distinct perfume. There was something about the scent that pricked him as oddly familiar, but he was too tired to ponder about it.

__

I'll talk to Numair. He'll know how to make the dratted dreams go away…

Roald lovingly settled back into the bed beside his wife and fell asleep.

****

A.N.: And _that_, my dear readers, is why this fic is called "Kaprice's Tears". Makes more sense now that you've read this, doesn't it? 

Two more chapters left!

~krizsta


	29. The Epilogue: Part I

****

What will your new fic be about? 

I'll have more information on my new fic in the next chapter. I might even include an excerpt from the new fic's first chapter if I'm in a good mood.

****

Why couldn't Roald have time traveled into the future with Kaprice?

Because that would still be bending the rules. He would be existing in two different times as two separate people. Even when Kaprice had time traveled, there wasn't another Kaprice still living in the desert. Kaprice time traveled for one purpose: to revert the Devastation. Now that that's finished, she must return back to her rightful place. Going seventy years into the future with Kaprice was not Roald's rightful place. Roald's rightful place would have been staying right where he was…which would have also caused lots of strange, complicated problems. And also, after Kaprice talked to the gods after her job was finished, they took their power from her. That was one of the main reasons the gods even brought Kaprice to them afterwards. They wanted their power back. And since Kaprice no longer had any powers, the gods had to return her to her time. And even if Roald would have been alive…I doubt the gods would have sent Roald with her. The whole 'there are rules' thing: they had just saved the world from chaos. Bring Roald back and splinter the natural order again…I doubt they would have risked it.

****

Will I be a writer after school is finished!

School will never be finished! It is the devil!!!! 

Er….I have considered it, but it is not my number one career choice at the moment. So I'll just have to keep on writing fanfiction unless I change my mind. 

****

29. The Epilogue: Part I

"Kaprice!"

Kaprice froze, one leg still thrown over the window sill. She turned her head over her shoulder and glanced at the woman who had just entered her room. 

"What?"

"'What', she says," Eliva threw up her hands in exasperation. "'What', as if she isn't trying to sneak out of her room on her own birthday."

Kaprice smiled and pulled herself back into the room. "Eliva--"

"Don't 'Eliva' me!" The servant woman snapped. "You have callers waiting in the sitting room, what do you think you're doing, sneaking out?"

"Ghris and I were planning to meet Rose in Corus before riding to Grandmother Delora's manor."

"Oh? And you have to sneak out the window? Whatever happened to using the door?"

Kaprice shrugged. "The door's boring. Sneaking out the window is much more fun--"

"In other words, you don't want to deal with your callers," Eliva observed.

Kaprice made a face. "No, I don't."

Eliva tried to keep a stern face, but failed. "Oh, all right. Go, go through the window. Such a spoiled young woman, why I even try to deal with you, I don't know," the woman said.

Kaprice smiled and gave the woman who had looked after her since her birth a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Eliva."

Eliva scowled at her, but then a scowl from Eliva was equivalent to a smile. "Go, go. Off with you now, you don't want to keep Grandmother Delora waiting." Grandmother Delora was actually only Rose's grandmother, but everyone referred to her as Grandmother Delora.

Kaprice pulled herself out of the window and slowly started to climb down the wall. 

Eliva's head suddenly appeared over the sill. "And you better be in time for supper," she threatened. Kaprice half expected the older woman to shake a fist at her. "Your parents and I have a surprise for you for your birthday."

Kaprice gave the older woman a last smile before hurrying into the stables.

Moments later, Kaprice was riding away from her parents' estate on one of the mares.

When Kaprice got to the designated meeting place, she frowned when she saw that there was no one there.

Kaprice settled herself under the shade of a nearby tree. "If Ghris doesn't hurry up and arrive--" she started to say to herself. 

Something suddenly fell out of the tree and hit her over the head before bouncing to the ground. Kaprice looked down and found herself staring at a nibbled apple core.

Kaprice slowly raised her head and squinted into the branches of the tree. 

"Well, well, Look who's finally decided to arrive," Ghris teased her as he lowered himself out of the tree.

"Happy birthday" he said, pulling her into a hug.

"A fine gift you give me," she said with a mock grumble, "dropping an apple core on my head."

Ghris laughed. 

"Where's your horse?" she asked, glancing around.

"I left it at the bottom of the hill, where you wouldn't see it," he started to explain as she lifted herself back onto her horse. 

"Lady Kaprice!"

Two figures approached them on horseback.

"Damn," Kaprice cursed. Ghris gave her an amused look. 

"Lady Kaprice, here you are! Did the servants not alert you to my arrival at your parents' estate?" Lord Cowell of Geraine frowned. "Oh well, luckily, I saw you leaving through the window and my sister and I were able to catch up."

"Lady Kaprice," Lady Mindy, Cowell's younger sister who had just returned home from the convent, nodded at Kaprice in greeting.

Kaprice gave the very callers whom she had wished to avoid her best smile. "Please accept my apologies. I actually was aware of your presence back at the estate," she said. She didn't want the servants blamed for something that was not their fault. "But I was late for an appointment. Lord Ghris and I are planning to meet with another friend at Corus for lunch in celebration for my birthday."

"Since my sister and I do not have any other engagements, perhaps we'll join you."

Kaprice did her best to keep her smile from turning into a growl. "Very well."

Cowell fell into line beside Ghris while Mindy rode by Kaprice's side as they first went to fetch Ghris' horse before heading toward Corus.

"I've had the pleasure of meeting Lord Ghris' younger sister Lady Lonna at the convent when I was still there," Mindy said.

Kaprice perked up a bit. She and Lonna had been friends before Lonna had been sent to the convent. "Oh? Is she well?"

"She is well, although life at the convent does not suit her. The ladies who run the convent are bent double with frustration. Lady Lonna will never be the perfect lady." Mindy smiled, and although Kaprice couldn't describe it as malicious, it definitely wasn't kind.

Then Mindy continued to talk about life in the convent. She went on and on about how she was praised for her good looks, her impeccable manners, and flawless embroidery.

Kaprice had never been so bored in her life. 

"What do you think of my dress? Isn't it beautiful? I always try to wear silk. Any other type of cloth irritates my skin and turns it red." Mindy looked over Kaprice and her clothes with a disdainful eye.

Kaprice realized then that her own skin was slightly pink, the result of spending too much time in the sun. 

"Oh yes, red is horribly bad for my complexion. But at least I don't have black hair. Black hair especially makes red skin stand out. Black and red just clash horribly, you know."

Kaprice hid a scowl by flipping a lock of black hair over her face. Mindy had a way of breezing through insults in such an indirect way that one did not know the insult until too late. Kaprice itched to slap the arrogant look off the younger girl's face.

Just when she thought it was over, Mindy suddenly switched topics and jumped into a single-sided discussion about her latest beau.

"His body is perfect, well-muscled but not too big. His golden hair is thick and shiny, and he has eyes that I would die for," she giggled. "He came visiting three times last week, and twice already this week. He's quite stuck on me," she boasted with a satisfied smile.

"How wonderful," Kaprice said in a bored tone.

Fortunately, Mindy's tedious conversation came to a pause when they arrived in Corus.

"Oh, Cowell, did you see that beautiful scarf!" she exclaimed, pointing to one of the venders' stalls. "I just have to have it! I have a dress that it'll match perfectly with!"

"Why don't you and your sister enjoy the market while Ghris and I look for Rose," Kaprice said to Cowell, not waiting for a reply.

"If I have to listen to one more comment about Mindy's beau's perfect nose, I think I'm going to vomit," Kaprice said flatly to Ghris. 

Ghris shook his head. "No sympathy here. I had to listen to Cowell talk about himself and how great he is." He stopped and glanced at the building they stopped in front of. "The Smoking Barrel. This is the inn Rose said that she'd be waiting for us in."

Kaprice nodded. "I'll go into the stables and get her horse; you find Rose." Kaprice suspected that Ghris had feelings that included more than just friendship for Rose. She wanted to give him a chance to greet her first.

Just as she was finished with saddling Rose's horse and was ready to lead him out of the inn's stables, a shadow filled the doorway.

"Kaprice, I've brought a gift for you for your nineteenth birthday."

"Lord Cowell, that really wasn't necessary--"

Cowell entered the horse's stall and loomed unnecessarily close. "Here," he said, taking out a small package and handing it to her.

Kaprice took it unwillingly and slowly started to unwrap the package. Inside, she found a lovely golden ring with a delicate green jewel embedded on top.

"The emerald matches the green in your eyes," Cowell pointed out.

Kaprice started to hand it back. "No, please take it back. It's much too expensive and--"

Cowell smoothly took the ring from her and got a firm grip on her hand. "Why don't you just try it on first?" he said as he slipped it onto her finger.

Anger started to settle around Kaprice's expression. "Lord Cowell," she said in objection, taking her hand away from him. 

Cowell pressed her back against the wall. "It's beautiful," he said, his hands creeping up her waist. "Like you." His face advanced towards hers.

Kaprice suddenly stepped closer to Cowell and pressed her hands onto his broad chest. She trailed her fingertips lingeringly onto his chest before lifting her arms and wrapping them around his neck. A look of triumph crossed Cowell's narrow face. She leaned up to him on tiptoe and pressed her mouth teasingly by his ear.

"Two can play in the game of seduction, Lord Cowell. But are you the better player?"

She gave him a moment to absorb her words, and then she promptly kneed him in the groin. Hard.

Cowell fell to the floor with a groan, both hands over his crotch.

"I'll take that as a no," she said with her sweetest smile.

And with that, she started to lead the horse back out of the stall. She privately hoped that one of the horse's hooves would 'accidentally' step on Cowell. 

Deep, husky laughter came from the doorway.

A look of annoyance crossed her face as she started and glared at the stranger who blocked the stable's only exit.

"You might want to give him his ring back," the stranger drawled.

Kaprice glanced down at her hand. She had forgotten about the ring. She let out a sigh of regret. "It is actually quite pretty. Too bad I'm not as impressed with its giver." She pulled the ring off and threw it over her shoulder, in the general vicinity of Cowell.

"Well?" she demanded, turning back to the stranger.

He raised a tawny brow. "Well, what?"

She glared at him. "You happen to be blocking my exit."

"Oh?" he said innocently. He moved to the side. Giving her just enough room to squeeze by with the horse.

"You must be Lady Kaprice," the stranger said as she went by him.

Her retort was cut short by someone's shout.

"Kaprice!"

Kaprice laughed and returned Rose's hug. They had been friends for as long as she could remember, united in the beginning with the knowledge that both were named after flowers. Unfortunately, they got to see one another less and less as they got older. Rose, following in line with the tradition in her family, had become a Rider, while Kaprice had remained at home, cajoling her way out of going to the convent, but not able to convince her parents to let her be a lady knight. Rose had gotten off from Rider business just to see Kaprice and celebrate with her for her birthday.

"Well, it's about time you decided to show up. You were gone for so long that we thought that Rose's horse had eaten you," Ghris said.

Kaprice gave Ghris an innocent smile. "You should have known better than getting your hopes up."

Everyone laughed. 

Rose turned and frowned at the stranger whom had been blocking Kaprice's way out of the stables. "We started worrying about you too."

"Worrying about him?" Kaprice frowned in surprise. "Why?"

"We sent him into the stables to find you, but since you don't know him…er…we were concerned that…" Rose frowned with the effort to word her concern in a manner that would be diplomatic.

At that moment, Cowell stumbled out of the stables. There was hay stuck in his hair, his clothes were rumpled and smudged, and he smelled heavily of horse.

He glared at the rest of them when he saw that they loitered in front of the stables.

Ghris raised a quizzical eyebrow. "What happened to you?"

Cowell turned an unpleasant shade of red. He glared daggers at Kaprice.

Rose caught his glower and looked at Kaprice. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow. When she saw that Kaprice was not about to say anything, she turned her look onto the stranger. "What happened in there?"

The stranger caught Kaprice's gaze with his own and winked.

Rose sighed, understanding that she wouldn't get an explanation until Kaprice was ready to give one. "Kaprice, I'd like to introduce you to my friend--"

"Lord Ryker!"

Mindy appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and practically threw herself at the stranger, who looked as startled to see her as everyone else was.

"Ryker, I didn't know that you'd be in Corus today," Mindy purred, latching a hand over his arm.

At this, Kaprice raised an eyebrow. "You're Ryker? Mindy's beau?"

He seemed even more startled at this. Mindy threw Kaprice a warning glare.

Kaprice stepped back and stared at the stranger contemplatively. She eyed him up and down, taking in the narrow hips, nicely muscled chest, strongly chiseled chin, silky golden hair, and twinkling hazel eyes that met her challenge head on. 

Then she turned back to Mindy. "So you were right after all, Mindy." She cocked her head to the side with a speculative look. "He is as pretty as you say."

Mindy turned a brilliant crimson. She pulled herself away from Ryker and looked as if she wanted to scratch Kaprice's eyes out.

Kaprice gave Mindy a concerned look. "Is that a blush spreading on your face, Mindy dear? You must be careful, remember how you told me that red was bad for the complexion? Fortunately, you don't have black hair like I do."

Mindy turned and practically ran in her haste to escape.

Ghris looked as if he was trying hard not to laugh. "Well," he finally said. "That was certainly very interesting."

Rose shook her head. "And you wondered why we were worried about sending Ryker into the stables after you."

"I'm not mean to _everyone_," Kaprice protested. 

Ghris snorted. "Name five people who you actually act nicely to."

"You. Rose." Kaprice struggled to name more people. "Lonna, before she left for the convent. My parents and Eliva."

Rose shook her head indulgently while Ghris gave her an amused look.

"But I'm also nice to…er…my horse."

Ghris laughed and threw an arm around her shoulders. "Perhaps we should leave now for Grandmother Delora's manor. Before you find more people to humiliate."

~*~*~

****

a.n: the next chapter will pick up right where this one has ended, it'll continue the conversation. Aren't you happy that Ryker isn't quite so dead after all? 

Well, I've updated for you. Now I must go. I have to see LOTR: Two Towers. I haven't seen in yet. Which is insane.

~krizsta


	30. The Epilogue: Part II

****

Will Alanna and the rest of the crew recognize Kaprice when she's in Corus?

Oh, they can't. Sorry about the confusion about this, but Kaprice is now living in the part of Tortall that exists _seventy years_ after she fixed The Devastation. Damn, I should have mentioned that in the beginning of the last chapter. I knew I was forgetting something… But no, alanna and the others can't recognize her because they are no longer alive (unless they somehow survived to be nearly a hundred). Delora (Thorn and Evin's adopted child) , just in case you guys didn't notice, _is_ still alive, and she is Rose's grandmother (but everyone refers to her as Grandmother Delora). Now, you might be asking, does Grandmother Delora recognize Kaprice? Hmm…what do you think?

****

What is Kaprice's fief?

Kaprice is more formerly known as Lady Kaprice of Nightslark. Nope, she is not related to any past characters. Oh, and Ryker's formal name is Sir Ryker of Champion's Lake.

****

A.N: LOTR: TT was great! The dwarf guy is absolutely hilarious. 

This chapter is continued right after the end of the last chapter. It's all part of one scene, but was split into two. The part in italics reflects the part from the last chapter.

****

30. The Epilogue: Part II

__

Ghris snorted. "Name five people who you actually act nicely to."

"You. Rose." Kaprice struggled to name more people. "Lonna, before she left for the convent. My parents and Eliva."

Rose shook her head indulgently while Ghris gave her an amused look.

"But I'm also nice to…er…my horse."

Ghris laughed and threw an arm around her shoulders. "Perhaps we should leave now for Grandmother Delora's manor. Before you find more people to humiliate."

Rose turned to Ryker. "Ready to leave?"

Kaprice froze. "Wait, he's coming with us?"

"Is that a problem?" Ryker asked her with an amused quirk of his eyebrow.

Kaprice slowly shook her head. "No. Not yet."

Her response made Ryker smile and to her surprise, she found herself wanting to smile back.

"Sir Ryker and I met while I was on Rider business. We're good friends," Rose said pointedly.

In other words, Rose was warning her to be nice to him.

Kaprice stared at the two of them inquisitively. "Are you two lovers?" she asked in her usual, blunt manner.

Rose threw back a head and laughed. "Lovers? I prefer men who are slightly less arrogant."

"And I prefer women who are slightly less domineering," Ryker threw back teasingly, flashing Rose a quick smile.

It was obvious to Kaprice that this was an age-old argument between the two of them. She felt a stab of envy run through her, for during their time apart, Rose had obviously found herself new friends.

Ghris quickly pulled in beside Rose as they rode to Grandmother Delora's manor. Kaprice fell back a bit and couldn't help but feel a bit left out.

"She's told me a lot about you."

Kaprice blinked and turned to look at Ryker, who had fallen back to ride beside her.

Kaprice turned her gaze back in front of her without bothering to reply.

"She's proud to be your friend, you know," he said softly.

Kaprice couldn't help but be surprised at his gentle tone. She snuck a side-long glance at him and found that he was watching her.

She straightened. "What is it that you want from me, Lord Ryker?"

"What would you say if I said that all I wanted was your friendship?"

She snorted. "I wouldn't believe you."

"All right. Then perhaps I should mention how beautiful you are, and how I want to throw you on the ground and ravish you every time you look at me with those great green eyes."

Her mouth dropped open at Ryker's astonishingly frank reply. She started to glance up towards him, but remembered what he said about her looking at him and quickly turned her gaze away. 

She heard him chuckle. "Have I embarrassed you? Amazing, I thought that you would do away with me the same way you did with Cowell in the stables."

"You're not in kicking distance," she muttered.

Ryker laughed.

"Well, since you don't seem to like that answer, I'll just say that what I want is to thank you for getting Mindy off my back. I thought that she'd never leave me alone," he said in an exaggeratedly woeful manner.

She couldn't help it. She let out a helpless laugh. "You really are arrogant," she said, shaking her head.

"So I've been told," he said, his hazel eyes glittering with laughter.

"So," she said, looking at him curiously. "What's it like being a knight?"

He looked at her amusedly. "It's a lot of work."

She raised an eyebrow. "Work? Indeed, it must be real hard going to parties every night."

He shrugged. "Well, there are those who prefer palace festivities every night. But most do find some work to do. From guards work to international affairs, knights are wanted everywhere. And besides, there's always a border patrol willing to take in more recruits."

"And you're one of the latter knights?"

He looked at her curiously. "What do you think?"

"I think you're a feather donning court dandy. And that sword at your side is for show," she challenged, knowing very well that he was probably the exact opposite of what she was declaring him to be. Rose wasn't the type to befriend court dandies. "I can probably beat you in a duel," she added contemplatively.

He laughed, not in the least bit insulted. "Can you indeed, Lady Kaprice?"

She snorted. "Of course not. The art of sword fighting was sadly lacking in my education."

His hazel eyes glinted. "I can teach you, if you want."

She blinked. "Pardon?"

"I can teach you 'the art of sword fighting', if you want me to," he said again.

She squinted at him. "Really?"

"Sure."

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him through narrowed eyes. "All right, so what's the catch?"

"The catch?" he said innocently.

She gave him a pointed look.

"Are you always so suspicious of everything?" he laughed. "There is no catch, lady. I am willing to teach you without anything in return."

"Why?" she asked, still skeptical.

He gave her a sly smile. "Because I like you."

She snorted again. "Yes, along with anything else that wears a skirt."

He glanced down at her legs pointedly. "But you're not wearing a skirt."

"Would you prefer that I say you like anything that wears breeches then?" she asked innocently.

He gave a sharp bark of laughter. "There is no winning with you, is there?"

She let a smile touch the corner of her lips. "Nope."

He chuckled. "My offer still stands. I will teach you without asking anything in return." He sounded a tad more serious than he had a moment ago.

She snuck a glance at him and saw that he was watching her. She paused, considering. 

She was attracted to him, she couldn't deny it. There was something about his mischievous grin, his twinkling eyes, that made her smile. And whenever she heard his husky laughter, she wanted to hear it again and again.

She turned her face to meet his gaze. "All right, then. I accept your offer."

He smiled, obviously pleased. "You won't regret it."

"I better not," she said mockingly.

"Oh, and I have a gift for you."

She blinked, surprised. "A gift? Why? You hardly know me."

"Well, I thought it'd be rude to come to your birthday celebration without a gift. And besides, because of the way that Rose carries on about you sometimes, I feel as if I've known you forever."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small paper bag. He then offered the bag to her.

She stared at it quizzically. "You brought me a paper bag? How sweet."

He just laughed.

She glanced up at him as she opened it. "This better not be jewelry. I can only have so many rings forced upon me each day, you know..." Her voice faded as she stared into the bag.

Sand? Had he given her sand? No, wait. Not sand, she realized as she poured some of the bag's contents onto her hand.

Seeds.

Seeds for Kaprice's Tears, she comprehended. 

He had given her her namesake.

Of course, that had been done before. Young men often swaggered into her parents estate, offering her a bouquet of Kaprice's Tears and thinking themselves so clever for bringing them to her. The most obnoxious suitor had told her: 'Legend has it that these flowers sprung from the tears a young woman shed for her lost love. And now I've brought them to you, the flowers of my heart.' And then he had tried to choke her with his tongue.

By the time she had been done with him, he had been running from the house. 

Sure, there were those who had offered her the flowers…

But none had ever offered her the seeds. 

And something about this gift touched her to the bottom of her heart.

She slowly raised her gaze to meet Ryker's bright eyes.

"Thank you."

He gave her a warm, tender smile. "Happy Birthday."

~*~*~

A delicate finger rose as if to touch the image of the handsome young man who rode beside an equally striking young woman.

But the finger hesitated, and then pulled back as the observer lowered her hand back to her side.

With a sigh, the woman continued to watch the couple as they spoke to one another. She watched as the young woman gently closed the small paper bag she held and placed it into her pocket. She watched as the couple continued to ride until they caught up to another couple, a pretty brown haired woman and a tall, wiry young man.

And then all four rode up the final steps up to the manor on top of the hill together.

The tall, wiry young man said something to one of the woman. She made a face and returned his comment with a quick retort, causing the others to laugh. 

Another woman appeared, approaching the four riders. This woman was old. She said something, obviously in greeting, to the four riders. Each of the riders pulled themselves out of their saddles and onto the grass to offer the older woman an affectionate hug. And once the horses were settled into the stables, the old woman ushered everyone inside her manor.

And all was still.

The observer raised her hand again, and her finger inched back towards the image of the now tranquil manor.

But first the Mother Goddess spoke.

"And they lived happily ever after."

Then her finger touched the water's surface, and the image shimmered into oblivion.

**__**

The End

A.N.: . I have no ideas for a sequel yet, and I probably won't have any ever. But who knows, maybe Kaprice and Ryker will appear in future fanfics, as Evin and Thorn did. Thanks to everyone who reviewed/left me constructive criticisms/etc. 

****

Are you planning to write something new?

Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Here's a bit of an intro for everybody:

****

Nobles' Bane:

Eager isn't the word Kalasin would use to describe how she feels about her betrothal to Emperor Kaddar and moving to Carthak. She didn't know the young man well enough to judge whether or not she liked him, but just the thought of moving to Carthak, a place so different from Tortall, to marry someone she really didn't know was daunting. 

So the day her ship is supposed to leave, she ducks into the library, hoping to delay her departure by hiding. And there, she discovers a strange book…

Short excerpt from the first chapter of the fic: _Well, since you don't know how long you'll be in here, hiding from the others, you might as well read something, she told herself. She was in the palace library after all._

Carefully settling her skirts around her, Kalasin settled herself right in the middle of the aisle and started to read:

This world has idiots, ordinary people, extraordinary people, and those idiots who don't think they're idiots. The latter is the worst kind, I think. 

And, I suppose, that's where I come in.

I have many names. The serfs, the servants, the slaves, the poorer commoners: they call me their savior, their heroine, their Lady Jade. What the nobles used to call me (and some of them still do think of me that way) isn't repeatable. 

Which makes sense. Considering that I used to hunt and kill them during my free time. 

This story is old. It occurred before your time, before your parents' time, before their parents' time.

It involves how the royal Conte family first came to be. 

And although it is a story with a 'happy' ending…it is most certainly not the ending I would have personally preferred.

The name I was blessed with at my birth was Lauryn. And this is my story.

Well, what'd you think? Weird? Scary? Tell me what you think in a review.

Before I close, I'd like to ask a favor of _everybody_ reading this. Will you leave me a review for this chapter? (Yes, that means _you! *_points finger at you_* _I'd like to hear from _everyone_, even if it's a simple review with the word: 'Hello'. I know there are people out there who read but don't review, and so I'd like to ask you to review this chapter for me. I'd really appreciate it if you could just take a couple more minutes of your time and leave me some feedback.

Thanks!

~krizsta

P.S.: if you'd like me to email you when I post my third fic 'Nobles' Bane', leave me your email in a review.


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